#fuck it. yall get baby time early

[teetle-time]

It's Free Baby Estate

In one universe, a freshly-escaped cloud of nanobots would see a conman selling robots and imprint onto him. In this one, the nanobots would escape just a few minutes too late to see the man, and they would spend the day alone, without anyone to call their dad.

When nighttime falls, however, that's when teenage brothers come out to play.

(Or, HI THE IDEA OF THE TEETLES IMMEDIATELY ADOPTING NANO IS CONSUMING MY BRAIN)

Based on this post from @mycatateit bc the writing gremlins got to me again lmao

〜

Raph leapt across the rooftops in blessed silence. Nothing against his brothers and father, of course: Donnie was simply enamored with some new hunk of junk he'd found after they'd helped April move into her dad's antique store, Leo was helping him brainstorm possible uses, Mikey was suggesting wild comic-book-type ideas, and Splinter had gone to his room to meditate.

This all just meant that Raph needed some time to himself to try and put that advice he'd spewed at Jones the other night into action- that was to say, he needed to clear his head SO freaking bad.

He jumped a slightly large gap, tucked, and rolled, keeping his momentum going as he leapt back to his feet.

Another gap came up soon after, another jump got him over.

He happened to catch a weird flash of motion from the alley below, and it was easy for him to come to a stop on the next roof and peer down at whatever-it-was.

It was some kind of…robot.

Now, Raph really wasn't all that keen to interact with any tech that hadn't come from Don's lab, especially not after the recent run-in with Baxter Stockface or whatever-his-name-was. Even this new robot's small size didn't matter- the Mousers hadn't needed to be big to be a major pain in his shell.

However, it seemed to be vaguely person-shaped, and it was seemingly hugging its knees as it sat against the wall of the alley.

Raph scowled.

He scanned the surrounding area with a keen eye. If he went and got himself captured by humans because some Pinocchiobot or something looked sad, his brothers would never let him hear the end of it.

However, the only humans Raph could see were sitting in their apartments, engrossed with various things. An old lady knitting, a young couple leaning into each other and looking at a TV, a man bouncing a baby and singing something Raph couldn't quite make out- all of them were minding their own business, and none of them were pointed out the windows Raph could see them through.

A quick check of the rooftops revealed even fewer humans, and even the one he saw was facing the other way and tapping at a cigarette as they headed back inside their building.

Whatever this robot was, it didn't seem to be bait in a trap.

Raph scaled his way down the wall of the building he was on, and as he grew closer, he heard sniffling.

"You gotta be kidding me," he grumbled under his breath.

The sniffling immediately stopped, and when Raph glanced down, the robot was jerkily scanning the alleyway, its face frozen in a blank expression. In a synthetic voice that sounded almost nervous, it asked, "H-hell-lo?"

Aw, shell, it sounded like a toddler.

Raph knew now that there would be no escape from his brothers' teasing, though for a much different reason than he'd first thought.

Welp. In for a penny.

He let himself make noise as he hopped the last few feet to the ground, then held his empty hands up for the robot to see when it whipped around to look. "Whatcha doing out here all alone, kid?"

The robot stared at him, then asked again, "Hell-lo?"

"Yes, hello, we've already passed that part of the conversation," Raph tried not to groan.

The robot ducked its head back behind its knees. "Sor-ry."

…the robot kid just apologized to him.

The robot kid. Just apologized. To him.

"Welp, you're already the most polite pile of metal I've ever met," Raph remarked. "And trust me, I've met more than I ever thought I woulda. It's been a weird few days."

The robot peered out at him again, and while its face didn't have the ability to change shape from the simple slab it was, its tight grip on its legs loosened a bit.

"That still don't answer my question, though. Why're you out on your own?"

The robot's head dipped slowly, and it fumbled through its next word even worse than the last couple. "Alllll-lone."

Raph found himself dropping to one knee in front of it. "What, you don't got a mommy or daddy or nothing? You can't have just popped out of thin air. Where'd you come from, huh?"

All he got in response was a mechanical whine.

Raph gave the robot a quick once-over. It looked like something Raph might've built- focused entirely on function, not necessarily the prettiest piece of engineering, and (this was the most critical) unable to house any fancy-schmancy spy cameras or what-have-you.

Like, Raph was pretty sure the robot was built exclusively from the parts of one of those street conmen's cheap toys. If there was any kind of surveillance in those things, he'd eat his own shell.

"Well, how about this," Raph said. "Me and you, we don't really look like the kinds of folks that most humans wanna hang out with. I do have a family, though, my brothers and my pop. We all don't fit in, but we do it together. If…if you wanna, I can bring ya home to meet 'em."

The little robot perked up. "Fa-mi-ly?"

"That's right, kid," Raph said. He held a hand out for the kid to take. "Whaddya say?"

The kid's posture brightened, and it (he? she? they?) took his hand, standing to a full height of Barely To Raph's Hips.

Raph picked the kid up without a second thought, and once his passenger was secure against his side, he made his way to the nearest manhole. "Alright, kiddo, I mighta got here from the rooftops, but I don't really wanna drop ya, so we'll be taking the boring way home."

The kid pressed tighter against him with a small nod.

His brothers could tease him all they wanted. So long as this didn't blow up in their faces or turn out to be a ploy from Stockman after all, Raph was already too attached to the kid to care.

Much.

He hefted the cover off with his free hand, slipped inside, then gingerly slid it back into place over his head. It was a bit of a balancing act, making sure he didn't fall or drop the kid while he did so, but he managed it with a little bit of luck and a whole lot of spite.

Just the way he liked it, frankly.

He began the descent down the ladder. "So, you got a name, kiddo?"

The kid's head tilted. "Name?"

"Yeah, kid, your name," Raph said. "Like…you can call me 'Raph.' Or 'Raphael,' that's my full first name, but the only times someone calls me that is if they're trying to convince me I'm doing something rash or something. Or if I'm in trouble, heheheh."

"Raph…" murmured the kid.

Then, in a stern woman's voice, as though from an audio recording, "Codename: Nanotech."

Raph blinked. "Wait. Don't tell me that's your name!"

The kid shrank in on themself a bit as the two of them hit the bottom of the ladder.

…Raph had a sudden urge to figure out who that woman's voice belonged to.

For no reason in particular.

Just because.

Out loud, instead of telling the kid this completely true information, Raph said, "Well, that's all fine and dandy for somebody's science project, but it's a bit wordy to use for a little kid, right? What if we shorten it some? Like how I stick to 'Raph' even though it's just a part of my actual name?"

That got the kid to loosen up a bit.

Raph struck out, mentally tracing a path back to the new lair before nodding. "Yeah, what about…Nano? Short, sweet, and snappy."

The newly-nicknamed Nano nodded into his plastron. "Raph! Nano! Nano, Raph!"

Raph chuckled. "You like that, then? Thank goodness."

Nano giggled unsurely, then again with more confidence. "Nano, Raph, Nano, Raph!"

As Raph started seeing more of the fancy architecture that came with the new lair, he realized- "Aw, shell, I gotta let my family know I'm bringing you home. You mind if I make a quick phone call, Nano?"

"Fa-mi-ly," stated Nano seriously.

"I'm gonna take that as 'you're fine with it,'" Raph decided.

He fished out his shell cell and dialed Donny, who picked up after only a few rings.

"Raph, what's up?"

Raph snorted. "Alright, first order of business- you gotta promise not to laugh at me."

Donny's voice tinged with amusement. "Why?"

"So I may or may not have found a little kid robot crying in an alleyway while I was out," Raph said. "I already checked 'em over- there's no fancy-schmancy spy tech in here, just some kinda AI in a toy robot housing. Not even an evil AI like whatever the Mousers had going on, either- I'm pretty sure this kid considers itself…himself? Herself? I dunno. Kid acts and thinks like a toddler, is my point."

Donny chuckled. "Awww, did Waphie find a widdle baby?"

"Hey, watch it. Is Mikey getting in your head or something?" threatened Raph without heat. "Since this kid seems to be just that, a kid, I'm bringing 'em back to the new lair. Figured I'd give you guys a heads-up before I show up with a robot, especially after what happened with Stockman's little toys."

"Good thinking," Donny conceded. "I'll want to give this 'kid' a once-over before we officially declare them safe, for sure, just so we can try and avoid another forced move. I'll meet you just outside the lair, in the northern tunnel?"

"You got it," said Raph. "I'm coming from that direction, anyways."

"See you then," said Donny.

The call ended, and Raph pocketed the cell once more. "Y'hear that, Nano? My bro Donny wants to give you a bit of a checkup once we get there. That okay?"

"Check-up," repeated Nano quietly. Then, louder, "Doc-tor?"

"Eh, he ain't licensed, if that's what you're asking," Raph admitted. "Kinda hard to get a diploma when you're short and green and mutated all over, but he's plenty smart enough for it. He works with tech a lot, too, so he's probably the closest thing we'll get to a robot doctor. You don't gotta, but it'd help us make sure everything's going okay with you."

Nano thought it over for a long moment- long enough that Raph was starting to get nervous, he could see Donny just up ahead- then nodded. "O-kay."

Phew.

Raph grinned and turned his attention to Donny. "Alright, we're here. Let's get Nano's checkup taken care of."

Donny smirked knowingly at Raph, then softened the smile into something friendlier for Nano. "That's right. Would you be alright with Raph setting you down for a bit so I can check you over?"

Nano looked up at Raph.

Raph tried to look reassuring.

Even though those kinds of expressions had never really been in his wheelhouse, it seemed to work, because Nano nodded to Donny. "O-kay."

Raph carefully set Nano down, stepping to one side to give Donny room to work.

"So, 'Nano,' huh?" Donny asked as he knelt down, inspecting the kid's joints. "Did Raph name you?"

"Raph!" Nano said. "Nick-name!"

"Oh, really?" Donny peered nonchalantly through a gap in Nano's chest, then up to the kid's face. "Might I ask what Nano's a nickname for?"

Nano's head ducked down, and the stern woman's voice spoke again. "Codename: Nanotech."

Donny blinked, then glanced at Raph.

Raph crossed his arms. "Like I told the kid, that sounds like the kind of name somebody would give their science project, not a kid."

Pick up on what he's putting down, Don.

Donny seemed to clock what Raph wasn't saying almost immediately, if the quick flash of hardness in his eyes meant anything, but when he turned back to Nano, the steel was already shoved out of sight in favor of a warm smile. "Well, I think I'm with Raph on that one. 'Nano' definitely rolls off the tongue better."

Nano nodded. "Raph, Nano!"

Donny rocked back on his heels. "I think that's about everything we gotta check up on. Everything looks good, as far as I can tell."

Raph grinned. "Hear that, Nano? Everything's good!"

"Good! Good!"

Donny pushed himself to his feet. "Let's introduce you to the others, then, alright Nano?"

Nano nodded quickly, grabbing for Raph's hand and clinging to him tightly.

Raph gave the kid's hand a squeeze, drawing a little giggle, and oh, shell, he was so in over his head here.

Donny smirked at him again, but just turned to head into the new lair. "It's right over here."

Raph led Nano towards the arch, letting the kid hide behind his legs when Mikey, Leo, and Splinter all glanced their way.

"Hey, guys, remember how I said Raph made a friend and wanted me to check 'em over?" asked Donny, walking over to one side to leave Raph and Nano in the spotlight. "Meet Nano."

Nano peered out from behind Raph. "H-hell-lo…"

"A robot baby?" asked Mikey.

"Raph…" said Leo warningly.

"Hey, me and Don both checked the kid over already," Raph defended. "They're a robot kid I found crying alone in an alley."

He raised the ridge where his eyebrows might have been at Leo knowingly. "Pretty sure the kid built the body from scratch somehow, too. Just motors in there to move the limbs around. Nothing else."

Hint, hint.

After a second, Leo nodded, relaxing slightly. "Well, it's not like we're not used to the unusual around here."

Mikey grinned. "You can say that again!"

Splinter got to his feet and walked over to Raph and Nano. "How curious."

Nano looked up at Raph, the grip on his hand tightening.

"It's okay, kiddo, this is my dad," Raph said quietly. "This is Master Splinter."

"Dad…" Nano thought for a moment, then looked back at Splinter. "Dad-dy?"

Splinter's eyes widened, then he smiled. "I would be honored to be your father, little one."

Nano gasped, then let go of Raph's hand to waddle up to Splinter. "Dad-dy! Dad-dy!"

If anybody asked Raph later, he most definitely did not smile to himself as Splinter gave the kid a hug, and he certainly didn't feel a warm lightness in his chest at the sight.

"Hey, if Splinter's adopting you, then that makes us your big brothers!" realized Mikey.

"Hm, that's right," Splinter agreed. "I see you already know Raphael and Donatello, but the other two are Leonardo and Michelangelo."

"You can just call me Mikey, though, little dude!" declared he, hopping over to join the little group.

As Mikey, Splinter, and Nano walked over to the couch, chatting to each other, Leo stepped closer to Raph and Don, speaking lowly. "How'd a toddler-bot capable of building a body end up in an alleyway?"

"I dunno, but if I had to guess, whoever built the kid wasn't trying to build a kid," Raph said.

"When I asked Nano's name, Nano played what sounded like a recording of someone saying 'Codename: Nanotech,'" Donny added. "Whoever made this kid, they operate under some kind of official protocol, be it legal or otherwise. My money's on Nano either escaping or getting scrapped for not working the way those people wanted them to."

Leo frowned. "Nanotech, huh? Why the not-very-microscopic body, then, you think?"

Mikey's voice gasped in awe, and the three of them turned to look as a cloud of silvery somethings rose from Nano and engulfed Donny's latest whatchama-hoozie-doodle, pulling it into Nano's body. After a few moments, the cloud settled back into wherever-it-had-been, and Nano's face turned to them and smiled.

Because Nano's face wasn't a solid plate anymore, instead being made of a few plates around the eyes and mouth that could now move on their own.

"That answer your question?" murmured Raph. Then, louder, as he flashed a thumbs-up, "Looking good, kid!"

Donny smiled wearily. "I guess that's one way to settle the debate about what I was gonna use that for."

Nano beamed and went back to whatever was going on with Mikey- oh, crud, Mikey was already turning the kid into a comic book addict.

"Right, well, I'll leave the serious tech talk to you two," Raph said, narrowing his eyes at Mikey. "I need to relieve Mikey of his Nano privileges."

Mikey blinked innocently, even pointing a finger at himself as if to say 'moi?'

"Jurassic Park is where it's at, Mikey, not your comics!" Raph pressed, striding over and hopping onto the couch. "Master Splinter, y'mind if I take the TV and show Nano some true art? I think the tape's still in there from last night. It's not a perfect adaptation of the book, but I dunno if the kid can read yet."

Splinter chuckled. "I don't see why not."

"Raph!" said Nano, hopping up next to him on the cushion and shuffling over until he had an armful of robot.

Raph just gave Nano a pat and settled in, digging the remote out of the cushions. "I'm right here, kid."

Nano smiled up at him, then turned to face the TV as Raph switched to the VCR and started rewinding.

Mikey started snickering, but Raph just flicked him in the forehead without even looking.

"Ow! Hey!"

Raph chuckled to himself, and Nano giggled with him after a few seconds.

Ooh, yeah, Raph would tear the world down for this kid, alright.

[show-us-kaidenshenandoah]

a loved one of mine sent me this post back in June, but i was immediately afraid of being a party-pooper so i didnt post my reply publicly but, now, ive had more than enough emotional distance from the knee-jerk anxiety of "oh no what if i correct people and everyone sends me hate and doxxes me" that im like "oh yeah i should post that" lmao (if i already did this: sorry, chronic memory loss stinks. i dont remember having done this before lmao)

if you dont like reading a long thing of text to get information btw, totally get it, here is a video link to Jessica Vill's video about the topic which will walk you through identical information if that is your preferred way to process/learn

also: you can easily google and wiki my sources, these arent hard things to verify once you know to look them up to begin with. but i did include screenshots below as my various sources; as well as evidence of "yeah, it would be super easy to fact-check me about this if you feel so inclined" [transcripts of images will be my reblog of this post under a read more, bc tumblr kept throwing a fit otherwise if i did it here] nonetheless, never blame people for not knowing what they didnt know. the misconception is absolutely the fault of PBS (for not fact-checking the author of that article pre-publication if nothing else) for publishing an article preying on the Black community's pre-existing attachment to Betty Boop for clicks. i wont be going into that article itself that had so terribly misreported, esp since PBS already apologized, im just reporting the information i know

i will add the following corrections to what i said in that DM:

i do not "blame" anyone above for the misinformation. if i "blame" anyone, it is PBS for claiming Fleischer consciously based Betty Boop's personality and design on Esther Jones, which you can see in the screenshot above; where BlackHistory.com cites and quotes that said misreported article. thats who i was groaning about in my DM, the PBS article; i was not nor was i ever attributing misinformation to come from @rikareena or @lveshae, but especially not @rikareena who fact-checked and was lied to by (a) said misinformation and (b) there not being an editorial within the snippet SAYING "oh btw sorry, our source we mentioned was bad actually. PBS apologized for the misinformation and not fact-checking it and we should too for spreading it without fact-checking our source ourselves". you should always google your facts and that is exactly what @rikareena did. it was not anybody in this post's fault that these sources were based on misinformation. do NOT blame or send negative attention to any tumblr-user/individual person within this post or outside of this post, istg, demand better of these website-sources instead (esp to have fact-checking teams themselves) and not individual people omfg

we do have few photos of Little Esther (you can see all of them in Jessica Vill's video), not just one. but they all are of her as a child. we have NO confirmed photos of her as an adult. also, to clarify, Little Esther was who i was talking about in regards to lost media, we have VERY little records of her performances (to which im glad people HAVE been looking into her and finding more about her that we can confirm is definitely her through this misreport. i love that she is re-gaining fans and her story is being shared, very big silver lining of this whole thing. if you're into uncovering lost media, please do look into her and help find more about her) also, she goes by "Baby Esther" and "Little Esther" as well as her name of Esther Jones/Esther Lee Jones

the photo i said was maybe her as an adult was incorrect. you'll see it below, it's the "Do Tell by James Van Der Zee, circa 1930" portrait that has oft been misattributed to Esther Jones. we do not know who this woman modeling for him had been

the cosplayer in question i mentioned was specifically Olya Gussy. she dressed up as Betty Boop and was photographed in 2008 by Retro Atelier. she is often misattributed as being an adult Esther Jones, which she is not

part of why i can never remember Betty Boop's primary "original" voice-actress is because Betty Boop has had SO MANY, even in just "classic Betty years". but i was specifically thinking of Mae Questel. the main three classic 1930s Betty Boop voices were Mae Questel, Mary Hines, and Bonnie Poe, but there were also several others in the 30s alone. but, yeah, when i was trying to talk about Betty Boop's voice-actress, it was Questel specifically who was in my head

i got my information wrong about the Betty Boop musical "Boop!". i got confused; i blame my chronic memory loss, but still my bad. anyway. it has so far ONLY been OFF-Broadway and is DUE to be ON Broadway in 2025 (get hyped!!! im so excited!!). off of Broadway, it has so far only been in Chicago according to the Wikipedia. and though it only had a had a short run in Chicago overall, the entire time it WAS in Chicago, Betty Boop was played by a Black musical actress: Jasmine Amy Rogers. love her, go support her!!

here are various screenshots with more information. feel free to look into them and/or the court-case on your own time. this is just "yep, shallow 2+2=4 levels of using google/wiki to fact-fact" on myself (which, to reiterate: is NOT a diss on anyone who didnt know what they didnt know, outside of this post or within it, idgaf, i do not tolerate trolls and dickheads being mean and utalizing me/my posts as a weapon to do that with) and show my sources in a more visual way

so yeah!! Betty Boop absolutely should be claimed by Black people since she has so many connections to Black American art within her performance, and Betty should 100% be drawn as a Black woman by any and everybody who wants to depict her that way

but also dont give Fleischer Studios credit for things they didnt do. they did not utalize Ether Jones in their initial conception of Betty in any purposeful or concious way; they did not design a Black animated female character in the 1930s. do not give them that credit that they have not earned. Fleischer Studios only utalized Esther Jones to get out of a court-case they had with Helen Kane. them accidentally creating a character whose performance is heavily in connection with Black American artists, like Esther Jones, is VERY DIFFERENT than them basing a character off of Esther Jones or being inspired by her in of by itself. do not give them flowers for making a Black female character star in her own shorts (and then rescind said flowers-that-they-didnt-earn for how she then "became white-washed" like that PBS article misreported) when they just?? didnt do any of that?

(also this is mostly unrelated but bc it is tangentially related to "dont give Fleischer Studios credit for things they didnt do" thing: if you know me, youll see me specifically crack jokes about Betty Boop being wlw and/or about her "he/him butch girlfriend, Freddie". im talking about her canon boyfriend, Fred or Fearless Fred, who is a human (unlike her also once-canon boyfriend of Bimbo, the anthropomorphic dog). do not take me making jokes about headcanons and how "Fred's design is too sapphic to be a cis man" as legitimate fact. youll see the internet jokes of a similar vein sometimes, im definitely not the originator of that joke)

Betty Boop is for everybody in the same way as youve likely seen that Hatsune Miku trend where everyone is making a cultural Miku re-design to their specific ethnicity or way of life; we've seen Betty Boop be flexibly "for everyone" tons of times, even outside of her being a nostalgic tribute to the flapper girl era (a cultural niche in which women of ALL backgrounds took part). in classic Betty Boop cartoons alone, we've seen:

Betty Boop as white/white-passing (especially any time they copied Helen Kane which Fleischer Studios did OFTEN and didn't even HIDE until it became a legal issue; but also Helen Kane wasn't even being that original. baby voices like Betty Boop's was a common gimmick of actresses then and Helen Kane's catch-phrase wasn't even her own. i still personally think Fleischer was copying Kane, but also it makes 100% sense why she lost that lawsuit),

we have had Betty Boop be Jewish (the most obvious being parents in some shorts speaking with thick Yiddish accents, implying she is the daughter of immigrant parents, most famously in the "Minnie the Moocher" short as part of the set-up before any music even began to play),

we've had her be rotoscoped dancing using Indigenous Hawaiian dancers, in their regalia, and given a tan (multiple times but my favorite is "Bamboo Isle" for sure),

we've had her collab with Cab Calloway (a famous Black jazz musician for anyone who doesn' recognize the name) along with others and had Betty Boop's catchphrase ultimately come from Baby Esther's scatting, along with other instances of Betty Boop's performances having connection to Black American performance-art

and, hell, you could even make arguments about Betty Boop as a cowgirl in her "Nan McGrew" parodies. cowgirls and cowboys were a largely queer and/or POC group, paid very little but allowed a lot of freedom of expression and welcomed isolation, until America cinema and the like white-washed cowboys to hell and back. you could see Betty Boop as anyone of any identity, really, but especially as being of the marginalized in that vein

Fleischer Studios did definitely (accidentally popularize infantalization in animated women woah who said that, who brought up my special-interest) only announce that they used an alagamation of flapper women in their design to better shoot down Helen Kane, but that doesn't mean it wasn't true. Betty Boop IS the 1930s tribute to the flapper era of the 20s and all the women from there, of all skin-colors and ways of life. anybody can cosplay or draw Betty Boop. but Black people especially do have a special connection to Betty Boop that cannot be denied and is v beautiful

(i could talk for a few hours about Betty Boop, and i will be the first to admit this isn't even her first "well, originally..." debate concerning her as a character, much less the breadth of her impact OR all aspects of her history. there's all the ways she did steal/borrow from Helen Kane, at least in my opinion; her impact of infantalization in animated women's designs; her hyper-sexualization and how theater at the time functioned (in a sexual way*) and her specific "gags in the margins"(*×2) animators would make; her almost movie about her and her father that a lot of Betty Boop fans have dug up and shared the conceptual work of around; and even the debate of her age as that is constantly in flux depending on where you look and at what time of history (*×3). all of which i mention in an "if you liked learning about Betty, there is a lot more to look into learning about her" way rather than an "ask me, ask me, ask me" way)

(said * clarifactions will be with the aforementioned reblog to not make this post even LONGER than it already is lmao)

anyway. again: A++ art though, absolutely love it ♡

boop-boop-a-doop

[dinogoofymutated]

First born Headcannons! Multi/Fem!Afab! Reader - Angel, Colossus, Nightcrawler, Gambit OKAY FUCK I don't know what came over me it just happened okay??? This whole thing started thinkin about colossus and a lil baby and then I was thinking about Warren taking the nightshift with his own baby and I spiraled from there. Warren's is like twice as long as everyone elses my bad yall. If there are any typos don't make fun of me ill fix them tomorrow I'm so tired lol TWs: Childbirth mentioned (Not described tho), Babies, wholesome shit. I know that some of these characters have had kids in the comics and that these hcs may be ooc, but I do not care lol. Little bit of anxiety and panic, but everything is okay.

Warren Worthington

Warren is such a dad. I don't even know how to describe it. Like, he's not as effortlessly fatherly like Piotr is, but once he has a kid he's devoted to making sure this kid gets all the emotional, physical, and financial support they would ever need.

He had such a rocky childhood with his own dad, so he hates the idea of his child ever going through the same sort of thing.

He might be a little clueless with the actual baby things, like when to feed, how to dress, and what to feed his little one, but he does take diaper duty as his sole purpose in life. He does adjust for the things he lacks though, and gradually adjusts to be better at them!

He's strangely good with babies, even before he had his own! There's just something about him that makes them stop crying. He's also an expert at nap times.

    It’s an early weekday afternoon. The sun is shining through the blinds in warm golden rays, the sink clean and the dishwasher running. There’s a click once the message on the answering machine stops playing, and you have an uncertain frown on your face as you take it all in.

    The house is silent, brightly decorated with pictures of your close friends lining the walls of the hallway. The sounds of your husband quietly shushing your infant son gradually become easier to hear when you reach the cracked door of the nursery, pushing it open as quietly as you can.

    Warren’s back is facing you, fluffy wings almost glowing where the sunrays touch his feathers. Your newborn is sleeping in his arms, napping after a lunchtime bottle. He’s bouncing the baby just slightly, and you swear you can see his smile without ever having to see his face. It’s a sweet moment you want to crystalize in your memories. You lean against the doorway, smiling just as bright as you’re sure he is.

    "Hi~" You say sweetly after a moment. You were right. Warren’s happy smile is bright and blinding when he turns to look at you.

    "Hey," He says quickly, lifting your sleeping son so that you can see him better. "Hi Mama, say hi Mama!" Warren whispers as he lifts the baby’s pudgy little hand to wave at you. You can’t help but giggle, walking forward to kiss both of them on their cheeks- your little one not stirring from his nap. You take a breath afterward, leaning against his side as you debate telling him.

    “Something wrong?” Warren asks, one of his wings stretching out to wrap around your side and pull you closer to him. Normally you giggle, but today you bite your lip, unsure.

    "Your dad called." Your words are soft when you say it, and Warren immediately laughs in a way that sounds more like a scoff.

    “His secretary, you mean.” Warren attempts to correct, and his joking tone makes you frown a little, rubbing his upper arm in an attempt to be soothing.

    “No, not her, honey.” Warren stays silent after you say it, his brow furrowing as his face turns into a reflection of confusion and sadness. You can see the conflict as he turns the words over in his head, cooing and shushing your son back to sleep when he starts to stir a little, feeling the atmosphere shift. 

    “...what did he want?” He asks, voice low and quiet.

    “He left a message on the answering machine if you want to listen to it.” You tell him. “He, well… He wants to meet his grandson.” Warren scoffs at that, shaking his head as he starts to pace the room a little. You stand there, grounded as you watch him process the sudden contact.

    “He really said that? After all he’s put me through, he wants to meet our son… What a joke.” You grimace when Warren starts to laugh. He finally stops pacing to gently lay your son back in his crib. He leans against the side with one hand as the other rubs his eyes before it slides up to run through his hair.

    “Do you want him to?” You ask after a moment, stepping over to his side. He leans into your touch when you reach out to hold his cheek.

    “I-” Warren stops himself, taking a deep breath as he takes your hand in his own. “What do you want to do?” He asks instead. You shake your head at him, taking hold of his hand in both of yours, tracing the wedding band on his finger.

    “He’s your dad, love. It’s your choice.” You say softly. Warren is still frowning, and he lets out a long breath, deflating a little bit. He turns around to face you, pressing a kiss to your temple and holding you there for a long moment. You wish you had even a fraction of Jean’s or the Professor’s power, if only you could see what was going on in that head of his. He pulls you into a side hug, and the two of you spend a long while looking at your infant in the crib. The perfect mixture of the both of you. Certain to be a mutant in his own right. You can tell Warren spends every second thinking about it.

    When he steps away from you, He’s silent.

    “Warren?” You call out for him as he leaves the room. You’re about to follow when you hear the distinct sound of your son about to wake up, the little whine catching your attention as you coo him back to sleep instead. The door to the nursery is open, and just faintly down the hall, you hear the sound of the landline starting to ring.

    “Hey, Dad, it’s Warren. Is Saturday okay?”

Piotr Rasputin

GOD this man is so good with kids. I mean, have you seen those comic panels with him and his sister??

This man was made, built, forged to be a dad. He's protective but encouraging, and although he may be blunt, he knows when his kiddo needs some comfort.

He takes all the classes with you during the pregnancy, and he knows he'd never hurt his baby, but there's always a lil bit of worry in the back of his mind. He's a little too strong, and he hates the thought of slipping up and accidentally harming this fragile little soul the two of you brought into this world.

He gains confidence with time, and when the baby arrives he's always carrying them securely on one thick arm, belly down as they sleep soundly against him.

    His baby is so small when they hand her to him in the hospital. She's tiny. Smaller than the width of his arm. He looks like a giant as he holds her, sat next to your bedside as you recover from her delivery. He's in awe as he looks at her, a tiny little life, the greatest gift you've ever given him besides your hand in marriage. 

    You and others had always joked that his baby would be huge, big-headed, 99th percentile, and he never minded it. It was no secret that he was a big man, and he didn't mind what size the baby was as long as it was healthy, and looking at the little bundle of joy in his arms, he decides he wouldn't have it any other way.

    It's almost comical, how small she is. Hell, even you might have doubted the paternity of the baby girl if it hadn't been for her head of pitch-black hair, and pretty blue eyes. Almost a carbon copy of himself.

    “She has your eyes.” You say once her cries quiet down, and she begins to fall asleep in her father's arms.

    “No.” Piotr hums, gingerly touching his daughter's face. “They look much more like Illyana's.” You hadn't thought about that before, but now that he mentions it, the resemblance is undeniable. You giggle at that, Scooting closer so that you can lean on his shoulder.

    “The nurse said that she's waiting outside, when you're ready. I'm sure she's beyond excited to meet her niece.” You mumble. Piotr has placed a finger in the palm of your baby's hand, both of you smiling when the little fingers do their best to try and close around his fingertip. Piotr cannot wait to see the face of his sister when she sees your baby, but he'll be the first to admit, he'd like it if this moment could just last a little while longer.

Kurt wagner

Kurt is such a good dad oh my god.

He's always talking about you and the kids, bragging about literally everything you do ever. He's the kind of dad that has endless photos of his kiddos in his wallet, car, locker, everywhere.

And he's so devoted, too. He'll do anything you ask him to do during the newborn stage (and after) and is beyond supportive. His goals are happy Spouse, Happy kids, Happy life.

He's also very sentimental :) he thanks god every day for you and the blessing that is your baby.

    Kurt’s side of the bed was empty when you woke up this morning, and despite the normal amount of anxiety you normally feel when that happens, you feel peaceful. You’re smiling at the empty mattress, rolling over to his side to push your face into his pillow, taking a deep breath. Used to, you would be worried. You would wonder where he was, or if he was safe. If he had gone off on some x-men mission without telling you (which he never did). But today, you know exactly where he is. You’re smiling now as you think about it, pressing a kiss to his pillow before standing up.

    There’s a soft humming in the house, quiet and soothing. It’s not hard to figure out where it’s coming from, the path to the spare room having become second nature to you- although, it really wasn’t much of a spare room anymore. You try not to be too loud when you enter the room through the cracked door.

   Kurt is humming sweetly, your son laid out on the changing table as Kurt finishes worming his pudgy little legs through a new onesie. The baby whines a little, squirming around as Kurt attempts to change his clothes. 

    “Patience, Mein kleiner Schatz. This won’t take long.” Kurt says sweetly. Your son isn’t really having this whole changing business, and it makes Kurt chuckle. His tail is wrapped around a bottle of milk, and he sets it to the side right before he snakes his tail over the crib. He brushes the spaded end lovingly over your baby’s cheek as a distraction, and the infant coos as he finishes getting his arms through the sleeves. His tail takes over from there, buttoning the onesie's clasps as he turns to grab the bottle of milk instead- stopping for a split second when he sees you in the doorway. Kurt smiles.

    “How are my boys?” You ask, voice a little rough from sleep.

    “Gut! And lively, it seems.” He tells you. He passes the bottle off to his tail again when you walk over, taking you into his arms as he shakes the formula up a little more. Kurt kisses you sweetly on the lips, pressing his forehead against your own when you separate. 

    “Guten Morgen, Schatz. How are you feeling?” You swear you fall in love with him all over again each day when he greets you like that. You shrug your shoulders in response, smile dropping just a little bit.

    “I’m okay. Still tired, and definitely still bloated, but I’m okay.” You admit. Kurt frowns a little, brushing some hair from your face.

    “Did you see the medicine I left for you on the nightstand?” Kurt asks, and you immediately make a bit of a silly face, remembering that you didn’t exactly get up on your own side of the bed today. Kurt knows what that looks means and begins to laugh, just as your son begins to whimper and whine to be held and fed. You try to go pick him up, but Kurt stops you as he picks your baby up instead, bottle at the ready.

   “Go take your meds, I’ve got him, Liebchen.”

Remy LeBeau

Remy is a little nervous to be a dad.

Not in a flight way!! He's just a little worried that he'll be a bad influence on the kiddo. and well, I mean sure. If you're worried about the kiddo being a little rager and being into a few to many wild hobbies I guess (usually comes with the cajun territory)- but overall, Gambit is such a sweetheart, and if anything his kiddos would be so respectful and loving towards their parents.

Remy's very protective over your baby. The protectiveness is at it's height around 0-3yrs of age, but it never, ever goes away completely.

He might talk some smack about how a little bit of dirt/germs never hurt anyone, but He's actually the kind of dad that makes everyone put germex on before even thinking about holding the baby.

He's on top of feedings, and never fears a blowout when it comes to changing diapers (no matter how much he might gag). He might not have the diaper back stocked and loaded 24/7, but he's doing the best he can.

    When you wake up, It’s about 3am. Your eyes blink oper wearily, and the light from the alarm clock is practically burning into your eyes. You want nothing more to curl up and go back to sleep, and you almost do, until the time actually registers.

    3am. Its 3am, and you went to bed at 10pm. This is the first time you’ve woken up since then. Your veins feel like ice when you realize that you haven't heard the baby cry once. You rip the cover off of you, breaking out in a panicked run across the hall to check on your newborn. You don’t even realize that Remy isn’t even in bed until you slam the door open and see him standing there, your daughter in his arms as he rocks her to sleep in the rocking chair You breathe a sigh of relief as he looks at you with a tired smile, but your anxiety still remains.

    “Remy? Is she okay?” You whisper, practically leaping over to his side to take the little one out of his arms.

    “She’s Okay, Cher.” Remy replies softly. He stands from the chair, wrapping his hands around your back, the infant snug in between your bodies. You sigh again, taking a moment to look at your daughter carefully, eyeing her chest as it rises and falls, and straining your ears to hear her breathing. Remy gives you a second to get situated, yawning just a bit as he sways the three of you as you stand there. You relax as he holds you both, resting your head against his shoulder.

    “Why don’ you go back to bed.” Remy says after a long minute. “That was the longest I’ve seen you sleep in a while.” You frown. He’s not wrong. Your newborn has been a bit colicky lately, crying for nights on end since you brought her home with very few things to keep her comfortable. She has started to grow out of it, but the effects still remained. She cries a lot at nighttime, and it makes you wonder if that’s why you had slept so long, because of Remy staying up to keep her quiet.

    “And leave you here? Remy, how long have you been awake?” You ask, looking up at his face. He shrugs, smiling still as the three of you sway.

    “I’m fine. I can stay up all night if I need to, as long as you get to catch up on some sleep.” If it were any other circumstance, you might have swooned at the words. As sweet is he is, you can’t let him do that! He begins to step away to place your daughter in her crib, and you hold yourself back from trying to take her from him and commanding him to just go to bed.

    “Remy-”

    “Ah ah ah, Cher, don’t wake ma petit, now.” Remy cuts you off with a whisper, turning around to place a finger against his lips in a shushing motion. He almost makes you giggle, but instead, you simply shake your head at him. He pulls you into a loving kiss when he’s close enough, running his hand through your hair. You know he’s waiting for you to pull back, to retreat into the bedroom to sleep like he asked you to, but you’re still hesitant. He knows your stubbornness firsthand and chuckles when he pulls back a little.

    “Do I need to tuck you in, too?”

[rumisgf]

YOUR BEST EATER ! - JJK EDITION

summary: jjk characters i think can eat pussy the best and who i think would not. that’s really it, i’m telling yall who the munches are. enjoy some pussy eating headcanons :D !

warnings: explicit obviously, black!reader, discussing f!receiving oral, use of the title daddy (once), cursing, slight crack, slander but i’m kidding kinda

GOJO SATURO - 10/10

✧ he’s sick in the head.

✧ i hate him truly. he gives good head and he knows it.

✧ he loves making it messy, he wants your arousal all over his face

✧ he wants it on the sheets by the time he’s finished

✧ he also likes making you cum multiple times, so don’t expect mercy

✧ he gets a kick out of watching you squirm and writhe under his touch

✧ and not only is his tongue magical, but he knows all the methods to make you scream for him

✧ he uses fingers and all that

✧ he’s definitely made you squirt from head

✧ the type of head he gives will have you soaked before he even fucks you

✧ yk the song that’s like ‘i’m the type of guy that’s gon eat it ‘fore i put it in?”

✧ yeah, that’s gojo

“one more, princess? hm?”

“yesss- please ‘toru!”

“good girl.. want you to make a mess all over my tongue”

GETO SUGURU - 9/10

✧ he’s a good contender for sure

✧ he’ll act like he doesn’t want to at first but it’s all a facade

✧ he can’t let you know he’s a fiend too early of course

✧ but when he finally does, boy are you surprised

✧ toe curling. jaw dropping.

✧ he’ll have you creaming on his fingers while he sucks on your clit like a madman

✧ it hurts so good and you never want him to stop

✧ and he licks your clit so attentively, he looks at each facial expression you make

✧ he draws perfect circles with his tongue

✧ it’s definitely not his strong suit (but shit that’s saying something)

✧ i’ll give him his flowers though for sure

✧ he gives the type of head that has you aching for him to put his dick inside you already

“taste so fuckin’ good. love this pussy, baby- ‘s all mine.”

TOJI FUSHIGURO - 8/10

✧ he’s one of those guys who swears up and down he doesn’t eat pussy

✧ he does.

✧ first time he went between your thighs, you thought you saw god

✧ whenever your hips lift up and you start squirming from all the pleasure, he presses them back into the mattress

✧ and he edges you while giving you head

✧ he’ll have you screaming then stop just to hear you beg for him to let you cum

✧ he’s still a sadist at the end of the day, he can’t let you have too much fun

✧ either that, or he overstimulated you until there’s literal tears streaming down your cheeks

✧ he loves making you cry from head

✧ if he’s not having you gag on his dick as he throat fucks you, this is his other way to see tears stain your pretty face

✧ whenever you squirt from him giving you head, he feels very satisfied with himself

✧ he can never give head for too long tho because the sight of you dripping pussy right in front of his eyes makes him so hard it hurts

“stay fuckin’ still brat. let me taste this pussy.”

SUKUNA RYOMEN - 2/10

✧ he doesn’t eat pussy.

✧ yeah, sorry.

✧ he’s a literal demon idk what else was expected

✧ in all seriousness, he’s not too fond of giving head

✧ but, he does enjoy fingering you though

✧ his fingers are often plunged into your hole while make out sessions and it’s his go-to for foreplay

✧ he’ll have you on his lap and play with your cunt until you’re crying

✧ and if you have toys, he loves overstimulating you with him

✧ this is often how he punishes you (sometimes he just feels like it, though)

✧ but long story short, this man will NOT be your best eater

“ry- fuck! daddy please- can’t take it!”

“nuh uh, this is what you wanted doll. let me take care of ya.”

NANAMI KENTO - 10/10

✧ if gojo’s not your best eater, nanami’s definitely your best eater

✧ he’s got every tongue and finger combo down packed

✧ he gets down. he do NOT play.

✧ he’s definitely a pleasure dom at heart so he believes you deserve good head from him

✧ and he also doesn’t talk at all while giving you head

✧ it’s almost amazing how focused he gets

✧ his form of communication is looking up at your fucked out face, filling his ego

✧ he likes eating you at after he fucks you

✧ that way he can fuck his cum back into you with his tongue and taste your arousal at the same time

✧ it’s also a way to overstimulate you that he can be slick with

✧ whenever you’re in missionary, he always has your legs bent to your ears so he can pull out and lap at your pussy whenever he wants to

✧ it’s a rush getting fucked into oblivion then getting your soul snatched as he slurps up all your juices

✧ he also enjoys how wet he makes you, so you taste so good when he does

✧ he spits on it. that’s all i have to say.

“k-kento.. so good..”

CHOSO KAMO - 11/10

✧ OHHHH LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING

✧ you thought i wouldn’t put him above gojo and nanami? you’re wrong.

✧ this man is a munch. he’s a fiend. it’s pathetic.

✧ he’ll eat pussy on his knees, matter of fact he loves it

✧ he loves when you trap your legs around like yes please don’t let him breathe he might nut right then and there

✧ he whimpers while eating you out.

✧ he won’t say it, but he likes spelling out words in your clit

✧ he mostly just spells his name

✧ and he loves how you taste, so he can eat you out forever

✧ you have to tap out for him to stop because he really has no self control when it comes to eating you out

✧ and please, sit on his face.

✧ and actually sit on it. this man doesn’t wanna be able to breathe

✧ he’ll leaves fingerprint marked bruises on your ass cheeks from gripping them as he works his tongue from under you

✧ him eating you out always has you squirting before he even fucked you yet

✧ he also enjoys tasting the mix of yours and his cum after he fucks you

✧ choso gives head so good you wanna have his kids

“babyyy- ‘m c-cumming!”

“f-fuck, taste so good baby. need you so bad.”

@ rumisgf

[gallaghersgal]

hey yall. here's some pure fucking filth me and olive were discussing. nsfw 18+ soft dom!lip & heavyyy somno (consensual!!) lowk not even my best work but my brain would not stfu about this concept. 0% edited

lip had a thing for filling you up. he wasn't fucking shy about it either, not by a long shot. he was always mumbling in your ear 'pretty girl, gonna fuck you full' 'you look so good with my cum drippin' outta ya, shit' 'needy fuckin' pussy, jus' beggin' to be filled.' his filthy words were enough to push you over the edge most nights, careening into a second or third orgasm.

afterwards you laid limp, while he would thrust weakly in and out of you until he couldn't take it any longer, his body caving to the overstimulation with an almost frustrated whine. tonight, however, he pulls out quicker than usual. you whine at the loss and he shushes you, one large hand landing on your hip as he sinks down your body. you half expect to feel his mouth on your cunt, but instead his soft curls tickle your thigh as he rests his head there.

you stare at the ceiling, your chest heaving, and reach out blindly to scratch at his scalp. "come up here, miss you," you whine softly, and receive a kiss on your thigh as a response.

"gimme a minute baby. wanna keep lookin' at this pretty pussy, just a little longer. m'kay?" lip mumbles, his voice hoarse. the pad of his thumb lands softly on your clit. your small laugh is cut off by a content sigh, and you let your eyes flutter closed while two fingers scoop what's leaking out of you. he pushes his cum back into your fluttering cunt, muttering some soft, awestruck words against your skin.

"feels good," you mumble. the feeling of his thumb rubbing slow circles on your swollen clit rolls over you in gentle waves, lulling you into that sweet peaceful state he always puts you in. it isn't long before you dose off, not that lip notices. he's too busy watching the way you squeeze around nothing, his load dripping back out of you.

"pretty girl," it comes as a mumble, low and needy. "you get me so fuckin' hard-" he kisses your inner thighs, then moves to press his lips to your clit. it's brief, but enough to draw a sweet little whimper from your sleeping form. you'd talked about this before, letting lip fuck you while you slept. he left early most mornings, often complaining about the hard-on he has to oh so carefully ignore as he began his day. he knew you liked it too, waking up full of him, the pleasure cresting over your sleep addled body.

he doesn't even need to pump his cock, he's already rock hard as he slides back into your sopping cunt. if you were awake he knows you'd tease him for the broken moan he lets slip out, he even has half a mind to wake you up just to hear your pretty voice, but you look so sweet beneath him. he can't fathom waking you up now.

one hand draws your thigh around his hip to provide a deeper angle, making you stir but not quite pulling you from your slumber. "must feel like a real good dream, huh baby," lip mumbles, keeping his voice low. "y'r so fuckin' tight, never gonna get enough 'f this pussy."

it's not long before he's close to spilling inside you again. his thrusts get sloppier, the soft squelch of your bodies together grows louder as he gets desperate, and eventually he decides it's time to bring you around, just so he can give you one more orgasm before bed. with the way you're clenching around him he can tell you're close.

"come on baby, open those pretty eyes f'me," lip whispers right against your ear, mouthing against your skin in a needy fashion. your eyes flutter open, darting around before settling on his own. "tha's it, there she is. there's my girl."

"lip? oh- oh, fuck," you babble, and his dick twitches inside you. your arms wrap around his neck to pull him closer, pressing your tits up against his bare chest. the proximity is dizzying, along with the deep strokes he's fucking you with. whimpers and whines tumble from your lips, sounding like heaven to the man above you as he chases his own high while pushing you towards your own.

"squeezin me so tight baby girl. ‘m sorry, couldn’t help it. jus’ needed to fill you again,” he mumbles, his nose pressing to your cheek. he leaves a smattering of kisses there, continuing on, "needed to fill this pretty fuckin' pussy. c'mon baby, cum f'me. cum f'me an' i'll fill you up."

that's all it takes to send you over the edge. you don't make a loud show of it, instead releasing a single high pitched whine, followed by a content sigh. a little smile tugs at your lips, eyes fluttering closed again as he thrusts once, twice more, before his hips come to a stop, pressed flush against your body.

lip all but collapses onto you, his chest heaving and thighs shaking with the force of his orgasm, and you manage to bring a hand up to his hair. you tug softly, bringing him to look at you before pressing your lips to his in a chaste kiss. your foreheads rest together as you pant into each other's mouths, all blissful smiles and tired limbs.

[watcherintheweyr]

'Rhaenyra is a bad mom bc she knowingly gave birth to bastards and she knew how much danger they'd be in!!!!'

1. She had no way of knowing those babies wouldn't pop out looking exactly like her, beforehand. And unfortunately she couldn't stop at Jace. The throne needed an heir. Driftmark needed an heir. And a spare was needed as well, given the sheer rate of Targaryen children dying untimely deaths.

2. She had to provide heirs to the throne, and to Driftmark. If she hadn't, society wouldn't have blamed Laenor, they would have blamed her- which makes her position even more unstable, bc then she 'can't fulfill a woman's duty' so why would men think her 'able' to fill a 'man's role' by ruling the kingdom? And she and Laenor tried. He was either unable (meaning infertile or impotent, or unable to get it up), or unwilling. (And they did try. We dont know what they tried but Rhaenyra is shown to be clever in the show so honestly i have no doubt she attempted what Margaery suggested with Renly.) Laenor was in on the entire thing. He was aware of every part of this. He wasn't duped, he wasn't cuckholded- it was a plan greenlit by him, bc this way he and Rhaenyra would both have their heirs and a family. This cannot in any way shape or form be compared to Cersei cuckholding Robert (fuck Robert Baratheon tho), seeing as Robert was **not** at all aware that his children weren't his, and wouldn't have been OK with that.

Either way- she chose not to maritally r*pe her husband and put him through more trauma after it was clear their attempts weren't working. Yall are always so upset for Alicent (rightfully so, bc show!alicent was maritally raped, even if it wasn't considered as such in that time), but you... WANT Rhaenyra to do that to Laenor? Hello???

[And no. Rhaenyra did NOT rape or coerce Criston Cole. The actors, writers, and directors have all stated their sex was consensual and 'an act of love.' It was Rhaenyra going to someone she felt close to and trusted after feeling abandoned and unwanted and betrayed. In that scene you literally watch, as after Cole tells Rhaenyra to stop undressing herself, she moves aside so she isn't blocking his way to the door. The director states that the moment they show Cole folding and setting down his cloak was him choosing his desire over his oaths. And Criston Cole has known Rhaenyra since she was 14. He knew damn well the sort of person she was- and she was not the person who would have harmed him for saying no. She was an intoxicated and emotionally vulnerable 19 year old- Criston was in his late 20s to early 30s. And it's explicitly stated in ep.9 that the ONLY person a Kingsguard cannot refuse is the king. In ep.7 Criston disobeys a direct order from Alicent when she wants him to mutilate Lucerys. Criston Cole was not assaulted. Stop trying to assign Aegon's sins to Rhaenyra so that you can feel better for supporting him.]

3. In the books, the rumors of their bastardry at large halted when all of Rhaenyra's boys' cradle eggs hatched. The ONLY people who continued to try and raise issue were the core green faction. But the realm at large *did not give a fuck* why? Because every actually relevant party claimed those boys. Repeatedly and without flinching. Laenor claimed and loved those boys even face to face with Alicent's bullshit. Corlys claimed and love those boys- he was proud of them, and it's been stated by the actor in the show that Luke was his favorite- that given the... events of ep.10, Corlys will be out for blood. And Viserys repeatedly insisted upon their legitimacy- because Laenor and Corlys claimed them, because he knew that by forcing Rhaenyra to marry Laenor in order to repair the damage his insults caused House Velaryon, that he had backed her into a corner.

Rhaenyras boys are remembered to history as Velaryon. Even **Green supporters** noted that they were good, capable, intelligent, and **worthy** princes. That their deaths were unfortunate *for the realm.*

Legally, those boys are legitimate. They cannot be proven illegitimate without Laenor renouncing them, and he never did. Furthermore, trying to declare children illegitimate due to their appearance is a stupid, dangerous precedent. The fact that it's people who have no ties to House Velaryon pushing these rumors and pushing for disinheritance makes it even worse, because they're meddling in the succession of a House that *is not theirs.* if that became a standard, imagine the feuds and conflicts that would erupt- lords pushing for the children of rivals to be declared illegitimate all for the sake of trying to grasp and steal land, power, and influence as a norm? The realm would tear itself apart. Not to mention the sheer danger that would place women in, in Westeros.

Furthermore, even whilst usurping her, even while calling her children bastards, the Greens also imply Laenor's homosexuality was inherited by the Velaryon princes- that they would use Rhaenyra's 'promiscuity' and Laenor's 'predilections' to turn the Red Keep into a brothel- ironic, considering that's more what Aegon would've done. So even while claiming that Rhaenyras children are bastards that shouldn't inherit, they try to state that what the boys inherit or learn from Laenor makes them unfit for the throne. They can't keep their own damn story straight- because their usurpation was never about what is moral, what is right, or the greater good. It was about greed. Power. Sexism.

It doesn't matter what those boys looked like, especially seeing as Rhaenys had dark hair in the books. What matters is that Corlys and Laenor and Viserys claimed them and declared them legitimate, and that they **never** deviated from that.

As for Vaemond, he was a second son. And he waited until Corlys and Viserys were dying and too ill to stop him to make a grasp for power. Youre not supposed to look at that and feel hes in the right. Youre supposed to look at that and see a man consumed by greed, and literally trying to bury Corlys' will and intentions before the man is even in a grave. He was NEVER Corlys' heir- he just wanted power. It wasn't about his House, or their legacy, it was about him.

(And before yall start shit about Rhaenyras boys stealing Laena's girls' inheritance... Rhaena and Baela are *TARGARYEN*. Not Velaryon. Their claim was to the throne or to any holdings in Daemon's name. NOT to Driftmark.)

Rhaenyras boys being betrothed to Rhaena and Baela tied up any issue of 'Velaryon blood.' Baela would have been queen consort of the seven kingdoms at Jace's side, and they very clearly adored one another in book and show. Rhaena would have been Lady of the Tides- which she never would have had a chance for, without Rhaenyra (and Laena) making those betrothals. She and Luke were also canonically very close- and in show she's very encouraging of him whenever he looks nervous or uncertain. They had a bond.

Rhaenyra stole nothing. She gave those girls more. And she loved them- they were the only daughters she got to have, seeing as the Greens treachery caused the early death of baby Visenya. If she hadn't loved them, she wouldn't have trusted Rhaena to look after Joffrey or give her Morning's egg from Syrax. She wouldn't have immediately invited both girls to the table when she was queen, which is something her father did not do for her until much, much later. He allowed Rhaenyra's voice to be silenced too often when she was first made heir. Rhaenyra did not repeat that hurt to her girls or her boys.

Anyways, moving on.

You lot do also remember that Rhaenyra herself has Velaryon blood, right? Jaehaerys I's mother was Alyssa Velaryon. Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya the Conquerors' mother was Valaena Velaryon. It's not immediate, but there *is* Velaryon blood through *all* of Rhaenyras boys.

Ultimately, Rhaenyras boys were only in danger because of the core Green faction usurping the throne. If they hadnt- no succession crisis or rebellion could have truly threatened Rhaenyras boys- because none of them would have had dragons. All of Rhaenyras children loved one another- her sons by Daemon would not have turned on her sons with Laenor (and Harwin). They were a true, loving family- possibly one of the healthiest and most close knit one House Targaryen ever boasted.

And another thing... 'her having babies with Harwin was stupid, she should have picked someone Valyrian!'

Here's the thing. Rhaenyra had to be careful as hell choosing who would father her and Laenor's heirs. She had to choose someone who was physically close, and who could be trusted. Someone who wouldn't try to publicly claim those boys in boast or jealousy. Someone who would keep their mouth shut and had no ambition of their own in regards to the throne. Do you really think Vaemond Velaryon (as I see him suggested a lot) would've kept his mouth shut? That he wouldn't have tried to use this to blackmail Rhaenyra and Laenor for more power and status? Do you think Rhaenys would have ever fought for or supported Rhaenyra if Rhaenyra had tried to have Corlys sire her children? And flying to see Daemon in Pentos and having a purely Valyrian child 9 months later would have made things look even more suspect.

Furthermore... she chose someone who cared for her deeply. Who clearly had a positive relationship with Laenor. She chose someone so she wouldn't have to traumatize herself- she took power over her body in a way almost no Westerosi woman has ever been able to. They were a family unit- Rhaenyra, Laenor, and Harwin. Those children were loved and cherished by two fathers and their mother. They were raised never doubting their mothers love, nor their father's- either father. They were raised and educated to be true, good princes of the realm.

Rhaenyra fought like hell for her children. She was an incredible mother. Yall just believe everything the Green faction says without looking at it critically, and that's unfortunate as hell.

[anonymouscheeses]

Even more and more of obvious shit I point out because I want an excuse to rant while not interacting with actual people in real life who also like this show because I'm masking 😍💜💜

BARELY STARTED AND BRO. YOU JUST LET HER DO THAT TO YOU, ME PERSONALLY-

HE'S PETTING KEE-KEE I LOVE HIM SMM

HER HOOVES. I LOVE IT. NOT LIKE THAT, IM JUST A FURRY-

*grabs pen*

ANGRY CHARLIE FOR THE WIN. I LOVE WHEN THE HAPPY CHARACTER GETS ANGSTY (Cough. Luz. Cough).

The people writing fanfics where she gets FURIOUS. Omg. That was something I read. I LOVE MY FELLOW FANFIC WRITERS BUT OH MY- YALL REALLY HAD CHARLIE M A D.

"Uh-"

I love his reaction lmao look at his goofy face.

HER BOW BECAME HORNS (my "redesign" is now 100% worse)

SAD VAGGIE. THE BOW. DROOPY.

Oh and the angel dust fellow back there 🤯

I LOVE ROSIE SO MUCH HUH

Tall.

No explanation needed. <3

PLEASE HELP???

CUTIE PATOOTIE. I LOVE HER SM UGGHHH

CHARLIE HATES OLD PEOPLE COMFIRMED YAY 😍😍💅💅

Hot

That's it.

IN SYNC. I LOVE THIS SONG AND THE ENTIRE SCENE. WHY IS IT RANKED SO LOW WITH SOME OF YALL?? Okay well-

I thought this song was gonna be a Charlie and Vaggie duet- tbh I still preferred that BUT I LOVE CARMILLA SO I KINDA DONT CARE.

BUT I WAS ROBBED OF AN ACTUAL FULL CHAGGIE DUET (REPRISE DOESNT COUNT) IF H*SKERDUST GETS A FULL ONE WHY CAN'T CHAGGIE? *SOB* uhh anyway-

Is that. Like. How she thinks actually 😰

I know there's been a lot of the lack of Vaggie's self-worth, which I wish was explored into more. I just think the Vaggie(3rd) episode just wasn't needed at all if it didn't even have an impact. Don't get me started on that episode, it was rushed, too early to have character arcs already, and overall not needed or even should have existed periodt.

I hope they explore it next season because GOD this woman needs TO LOVE HERSELF. OR ATLEAST CARE ABOUT HERSELF LIKE????

SWEET MAMA PLEASE. TAKE ME IN YOUR WINGS AAAAAAAAA

Charlie, sharing is caring <3

Out of all the people I thought Charlie would vent to I didn't think it would be ROSIE. It's a nice surprise tho I love her <3

bisexuality.

That's it.

HE'S DANCING. ALASTOR IS DANCING. THEY ARE SLAYING BESTIES. THE MAN IS DANCING. HELP.

Season 2 is going to be Charlie in her villain era and Alastor's reputation era 😍

I LOVE VAGGIE'S FACE. PRECIOUS BABY UGHH... THEN THE WINGS REPLACE THE BOW AND DROOP UGGHH I HOPE IN SEASON 2 WE SEE MORE OF HER WINGS. OR CUT HER HAIR SHORT SO WE CAN HAVE IT ALL THE TIME. Also so Husk and Vaggie can bond over both having wings. Sorry I love their potential friendship so much. AND LUCIFER AND VAGGIE TOO!! BOTH BEING FALLEN ANGELS OMG. UGH THE POTENTIAL OF VAGGIE'S RELATIONSHIPS WITH NOT JUST CHARLIE ARE SO GOOD AND I HAVE BEEN ROBBED OF SEEING HER AS AN ACTUALLY MORE FLESHED OUT CHARACTER. I AM SCREAMING AAAAAAAA.

I can't say how much I love them. It's too much. I cant- yay the teaser image before the show came out <3 they are so fucking adorable. UGH SOME1 END ME

Charlie loves the wings hehehe. Vaggie looks nervous about it. It's probably a reminder to her about when she used to be an exterminator. The healing from everything will take a long time but hopefully Charlie will be there for her the entire time. And vice versa

Ayo- 😰

CHARLIE. T H E PRECIOUS BABY.

Uh next one tomorrow cuz yeah 🤯

[simpjaes]

mtl to be into somno?

MTL: hyung line + somnophilia [sex while one party is asleep] warnings: dub con-ish

most

☆ heeseung: oh, absolutely. how could he resist? it's surprising at first, seeing as how you never knew it was a thing until you woke up to his cock prodding against your sleeping cunt :( you soaked up real fast for him though, despite the dry first few drags. he appeared to love it, feeling you get wet by this alone was enough to drive him to do this as often as possible. and you? oh you love waking up to your boyfriend wanting you this badly. additionally, you do the same for him if you happen to wake up before him. feeling his drowsy hand push your head down harshly on his cock, thrusting up with no rhythm in a half-asleep state as if it's his natural given right to fuck you at any given time, even if not fully awake. heeseung definitely loves waking you up with pleasure, and loves it even more when you wake him up this way.

★ jake: pleasepleaseplease wake him up getting him all hard. he loves waking up to the feeling of stimulation. wincing in pleasure as he's still asleep, body humping up against whatever you're doing. being a deep-sleeper means nothing considering he begged you to do it time and time again, and when you finally did? god, he could fucking marry you. usually wakes up when he gets close, fucking up hard into your mouth,fist, or pussy. whichever you offer him. and for you? of, the same. Usually he wakes you with nibbles against your clit after silently and sneakily dipping under the blankets. Loves the taste of you at all times, but something hits different in the way you'll lace your fingers in his hair and grind against his mouth with those sleepy and raspy moans. 100% into it, 100% loves it.

☆ jay: both of you are free use anyway, why does it matter whether you're awake versus asleep? fuck him anytime you want and he will absolutely do the same. slipping his cock in just as you fall asleep, lending a chuckle and a grope of the tit like "i'll do all the work, baby, just sleep". likewise when he pretends to stay asleep even when you've gotten him rock hard with your spit-soaked hand rubbing against him so early in the morning. given, you definitely woke him up with that, but goddamn does he love it when you slip down on him, somehow still believing he's sleeping, and he lends you a violent thrust just to hear you yelp and giggle in surprise. ★ sunghoon: in the safety of his own bed? being woken from dream land with you trying to get him hard by rubbing up against him? sometimes going as far as licking down his soft cock? even trying to jerk him off at 4am??? fuck yeah, babe. sunghoon would find it so fucking sensual and sexy to have you all over him, needing him, even while unconscious. and while he would do it for you too, he's probably more inclined to wake you up with a million fluttered kisses on the inside of your thighs, waiting until you moan to give him a green light.

still most likely since yall wanna whine about sunghoon always being last [IT'S BECAUSE I THINK HE'S A VERY SENSUAL LOVER, NOT BC I DON'T THINK HE'S FREAKY!!!!!!!!!]

[kenslilove]

᯽៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ Who’s Little Sister?! Pt.2

preview: You called him your boyfriend? Why would you do that? Draken isn't sure he's cut out to be the boyfriend to Takemichi's precious little sister...

ft. Ken "Draken" Ryuuguji x fem!reader

wc. 9kish... help 🫠🤪😰😵‍💫🥴🤡

W. NFSW 18+ MINORS DNI, age gap (Draken is in his late 20’s and owns the bike shop, reader is in their early 20’s in university), fem reader (takemichi’s little sister), crybaby/bimbo reader, angsty in the middle, Draken is very insecure of his ability to be in a relationship, slight exhibitionism (Draken fucks you while on call), multiple cream pies, messy make-outs, oral (m!receiving), mating press, squirting, lots of praise, aftercare, lots of pet names, it gets soft and passionate at the end 🥹🥹

an. The long-awaited part 2 of “Who’s Little Sister.” I put my heart, soul, and pussy into this piece. I think it's my favourite thing I've ever written in all honesty, it very much encapsulates how I think Draken’s and I’s relationship would start. God, I love him so much. It’s also the first time I've written anything remotely angsty though, and I can’t tell if it's lame or not LMFAO. Please, let me know what you think. I'm so very happy to be reposting this piece on this blog to share with yall, it’s literally so important to me <33 and I’m so so happy this is the fic that is bringing back my writing spark! Part 3 will hopefully be even better than this 🙏🏼🤭 Constructive feedback, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. 

extra note: Listen to “Nothings gonna hurt you baby.” By Cigarettes After Sex during the last scene. It’s Kenny’s and I’s selfship song and help inspired me for the ending <33

tagging: @enchantedforest-network @eveningatthemoviesnetwork and @shoyosdoll bc you've been such a supporter of this fic hehe <33 i hope you love part 2 as much as part 1 <33

“Draken-Kun, are you coming tonight?” 

There was silence on Draken’s end of the phone as all the other males on-call waited for a response. Mikey was the first one to say something back, annoyance clear in his tone as he spoke directly into the receiver, making his voice sound much louder than necessary. 

“Oi, Ken-Chin, get off the phone if you’re just gonna ignore us.” 

“Sorry–” Draken finally responded, his voice seeming just a bit more… strained than usual. Not enough for the boys to notice until he grunted softly, what seemed to be creaking or something muffled in the background of his audio call. 

“You good, dude?” Mitsuya piped up, his own voice a little muffled due to a sewing needle between his lips but nothing like Draken’s. 

“Oh yea, fuckin peachy–” Draken breathed in response, his huff coming out as a soft laugh when a bit of sweat started to roll down his temple. 

If he was being honest, he wasn’t really paying attention to the call, how could he, when you, Takemichi’s precious little sister was underneath him, sprawled out and trembled as his cock drilled into you at a steady pace. You were biting down on your bottom lip so hard, Draken swore that blood would free itself soon from the delicate flesh, your eyes screwed shut as your pretty chest bounced with each thrust of his hips. You were trying so hard for him to be quiet, just like he instructed as soon as he picked up the phone. The attempt was adorable, considering how vocal you usually were for him. 

But Draken was twisted, he knew that deep down, so he just couldn’t help himself when he angled his hips just right so his cock head would jab right into that gummy sweet spot within your walls. You yelped, pleasure shooting up your spine, only for the sound to be cut off by the smack of Draken’s free palm clamping over your mouth. 

“Who has a girl over~?” Baji piped up, suddenly very much interested in the conversation. Draken laughed shallowly into his receiver, his hand tightening up along your jaw as he continued to ram into the spot that made you see stars. You couldn’t even control your babbles when he did this, an endless stream of whimpers and sobs being muffled into his palm as you held onto his wrist for dear life. 

“Gotta go, Text me what time I needa be there–” Draken didn’t wait for a response from his friends. Instead, he hung up quickly, abandoning the device somewhere on the bed. When he released the hold on your mouth you whined at him, the tears finally spilling from your eyes. 

“K-Kenny, Kenny please– Please–!” 

“So fuckin loud pretty, all the damn time,” Draken says it with a grin, easily manhandling your thighs over his shoulders so he can fuck into you deeper. He presses a kiss to your ankle, right beside the anklet he bought you as your pussy flutters so desperately around his cock. 

“O-Oh! Please, Ken–!”

“Please what?” Draken grunts, his hips slapping up against yours ruthlessly now as his release comes dangerously close. He knew you weren’t far behind. Had learned your signs very early on. Your toes would curl, your eyes would get foggy, chest stuttering. Your pussy would milk him so tight and leave rings of arousal on his cock. 

And he loved every second of it. 

“Wanna cum, needa cum again–!” you pleaded with him, nails digging into the muscles of his flexing biceps. He nodded in agreement, his own voice becoming hoarse due to the sheer squeeze of your pussy. Although his pace started to get sloppy he still fucked into you, one hand slithering between your sweaty bodies in order to massage ruthlessly at your clit. 

“Go on then, cum, make a fuckin mess f’me gorgeous.” He breathes, licking his lips when you throw your head back with a cry. The mess you make on his cock is breathtaking, arousal squirting from your used hole and dousing his hand, wrist and abs. He swears under his breath at the borderline painful grip your pussy has on his cock when you finish, one final thrust allowing him to spill ropes of cum right up against your cervix. 

Draken’s trembling when he falls onto his elbows over you, his breath coming out a bit shaky as his cock still twitches within your walls in the aftermath of both of your highs. He starts pressing wet, opened-mouthed kisses along your neck and face to help you come too, a soft chuckle leaving his lips when you whine softly. 

“You okay baby?” His voice is a whisper, and as the energy slowly comes back to you he smooths his palm over your cheek, thumb swiping under your eye to pick up leftover tears. You nod, one of your trembly hands lazily dragging through his black locks of hair. “Mhm, m’good, Kenny. Help me sit up?” He does, one big palm on the back of your neck to help you to sit up against the headboard. 

He presses a smooch to your lips before easing himself out of you, both of you wincing softly from the loss of contact. It’s only when he pulls out completely and his softening cock falls against his thigh that he realises just how big of a mess the two of you made of yourself and the sheets. It makes him swell with pride, a grin slowly curling on his lips. 

You’ve come a long way, from the sweet girl who was just learning to cream on his cock to the messes you’ve made on his bed on the daily. 

“M’gunna get a cloth.” He says, handing you a glass of water and your phone as soon as he stands to keep you occupied. His muscles are still a bit tingly as he stands, arms stretching up and above his head as he heads towards the bathroom. 

“Nice butt!” You call out, making him snort softly as he stands before the bathroom mirror. He can’t help but admire the marks you’ve littered across his neck and chest, the cute little bruises reminding him of the shape of your puckered lips. He then examines the nail marks you’ve left along his forearms and shoulders, some of the red pathways breaking in the middle to show little droplets of blood. Lastly, he sighs dreamily at the sheen of your arousal that coats his pelvis, a ring of white still layered at his base. 

Man knew he was in heaven. 

When he came back to the bedroom after tidying himself a bit, as well as with a cloth in hand you were on the phone with someone, giggling into the receiver and looking up at Draken with a playful glint in your eye. 

“I’ll actually meet with you later, m’with my boyfriend right now~” Despite the way your giggling increased and you squealed to your friend about how you’ve mentioned him before with such excitement, Draken was anything but that. 

His chest tightened up, crease forming between his brow. Boyfriend? When did that become his title? 

“Kennnnnny~” You snapped him out of his thoughts, though his brows stayed furrowed. “Hurry! The mess is only getting bigger over here.”

One hand was planted on the mattress as he gently wiped the dampened towel over your pussy and thighs, your hand coming to cover his, making him pause in your tracks. “Shouldn’t scowl so much, handsome.” You murmur it gently, thumb gently smoothing between his brows in an attempt to fix the crinkles there. “You’ll get wrinkles~”

“You called me your boyfriend–” His voice was blunt, which took you by slight surprise. A little pout formed on your swollen lower lip as you subconsciously squeezed at his wrist. 

“Well, yea–”

“We haven’t talked about that.” He was still being blunt as ever, so much so it almost startled you, made you feel much smaller under him as he sat up on his hunched, throwing the soiled cloth into the laundry bin. 

“I-I know…” You simply muttered, chest started to feel tight as you watched just how serious his face had become. He was tugging his strands of black hair into a low bun when you sat up a bit more, fingers gently brushing over his chest. “But I just thought, thought that we were together…”

And it wasn’t wrong for you to think that way. Ever since that first night at Draken’s apartment the two of you had been secretly hanging out. You went out to restaurants, and the local arcade took his bike to the mountainside and watched the sunset. The two of you had bought little things for one another, like the gold anklet that sat pretty on your ankle and the hello kitty keychain that was currently attached to his bike keys. You even made sure to turn off your location so Takemichi couldn’t see just how often you were having sleepovers at Draken’s place. 

You two did the things that couples did together. You two did the things that you saw Takemichi and Hina do on the regular. Dare you even say, you did things with Draken that he and Emma used to do–

Plus, he was fucking you every chance he got. 

“Well, maybe you shoulda thought about talkin to me about it first before you go squealing that I’m your boyfriend.” His tone was harsher than he wanted it to be, a tone he usually used with his friends but never really with you. It had you suck in a soft breath, suddenly feeling very exposed curled up in nothing but his bedsheets. 

“You don’t have to be so mean–” 

“M’not being mean, I’m being realistic. It ain’t cute to just assume I’m your boyfriend when we haven’t talked about anything official.” He was off the bed now, tugging up his boxers. When you didn’t respond he sighed. “We hang out and fuck around, why do we need to be more than–” 

When he turned around again to look you in the eye his own voice caught in his throat. Your eyes had gotten wide, a glossy layer of tears hiding the usual beautiful shine your gaze held. Your lower lip was trembling softly, fingers clutching onto the covers so tightly he noticed how your knuckles turned white. 

“Hey–” 

“M’gunna go.” You interrupted, the crack in your tone only making his heart plummet harder in his chest. As you got to your feet, his blanket securely wrapped around you he grabbed both your shoulders. 

“Hey, don’t be like that (Y/N), you don’t even have a ride–” 

“Gunna call Michi.” You slipped out of his grasp by tucking yourself out from under his hands, bending to grab at your clothes scattered across the ground. 

“Like hell you are. We’re not telling him about us, remember what happened last time?” Draken could still hear the boy's ruthless comments after that first night, the crack of Baji’s fist against his jaw– 

“Don’t care, wanna go home.” Your muttering had gotten softer, ready to slip into the bathroom and shut the door right in his face. 

“Would you stop being such a brat?” Draken grabbed at your arm this time, tugging it back towards him. He himself hadn’t expected it to be so forceful, the little squeak you released and the falling of tears instantly making him let go of you. You both stared at each other a little shocked, Draken’s breath froze in his throat and his fingertips went a bit cold as you looked at him. 

Teary-eyed, shrunken in. Scared. Were you scared of him? 

Without a word, you finally went into the bathroom, and it was only then that Draken let out his frustrated breath, cheeks feeling hot as he clenched his fists up at his sides. Fuck, what the fuck was happening right now. He hated this nonsense, hated just how frustrated he felt, hated that look on your face, hated that he couldn’t even really understand what emotions were running through his head. 

Why was he mad anyway? Why was any of this really a big deal? 

He used his own phone to call you a cab, knowing you wouldn’t actually call Takemichi to pick you up. You had also gotten an ear full after getting caught, and as much as you trusted your brother, the last thing you needed right now was a lecture. You stayed locked in the bathroom until Draken gave the wood a gentle knock with his knuckles. 

“Cabs here…” He murmured. You didn’t look at him when you walked out, eyes bloodshot and downcast and when slipped past him fully clothed. He watched from the ledge of his bed, jaw set rigid as you so casually adjusted your bag over your shoulder, now a little overfilled with the stuff you had started to accumulate in his bathroom. Something slipped from your fingertips onto his kitchen counter before you made a beeline for the door, Draken only getting up when it closed firmly behind you. 

He approached slowly, that odd feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach seeming to grow, expanding into his chest as he noticed the subtle twinkle on the countertop. It was the anklet he bought you, dainty, gold, shiny, his initials hanging from the small tag. 

“Fuck—!“ His emotions boiled over into anger, face red when his fist connected with the drywall. A crack formed in the white fall, his knuckles taking on a deep purple almost instantly as he pulled his clenched fist back to his side. Instead, he let his forehead rest in the dent he just made, thoughts spiralling, making his heart pound in his chest. 

Had he really just done that? Made a big deal over nothing? Put his hands on you? And for what? 

You called him your boyfriend… was that really… so wrong? 

Was he really so set on “not being a sister fucker”, did he really care so much about what the boys thought, what people said about him, that he was willing to let you go? 

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed leaned up against the wall like that, thoughts running wildly through his mind, making it pound. Eventually, when his eyes started to get sore, narrowing down in an attempt to hold back unwanted angry tears he moved back to his room to plop himself down into bed. And he didn’t get up for the rest of the evening. 

It had been a week. 

One whole week since you had left Draken’s apartment, and the two of you had not spoken since. Day three was when Draken caved and texted you, considering you had turned your location off for him so he couldn’t check up on you from time to time. 

“Are you okay? Please, we need to talk.” 

Radio silence. The message was left unread by you. He even sent another the day after, just a quick message but a little more firm than the last. 

“Don’t shut me out like this.” 

And still, nothing. It was killing Draken from the inside out. Each day that passed made him more anxious than the last. Were you okay? Did you hate him now? Were you crying to your brother? Draken couldn’t ask Takemichi about you, cause he didn’t even know you two were a thing in the first place. But every time he saw his black-haired friend his heart would stutter, tightening up in his chest. 

You laughed just like he did. Were you laughing right now? 

Draken had a bad habit of letting things like this consume him. Almost everything seemed to remind him of you or something the two of you had done and it was driving him a little crazy. And all because you had called him your boyfriend. 

All because Draken was afraid to commit to someone again despite his need to do so. All of his friends always thought he was so mature, and yet here he was, working through feelings that were staring him right in the face like some teenage boy. 

He kept his headphones in at the shop, his body hunched slightly on the stool he set up beside the bike he was currently repairing. The music was loud, drowning out not only the background noise but his thoughts that seem to repeat themselves over and over. His brows were slightly furrowed when he lifted from the busted engine only a moment, just enough to wipe away excess sweat that built up on his brow. 

That’s when he caught a glimpse of you. It made his heart pause mid-beat, breath hitching in his throat. He caught the last bits of you as you rounded the corner that led up the stairs, probably in search of Takemichi But that didn’t matter. 

Draken found himself scurrying from his seat, the stool skidding from under him as he was quick to follow suit. With long strides, he made it to the stairs and there you were, hand on the railing, one of those cute little skirts he loved hugging your waist just right. He called out to you, twice actually, quickly pulling his headphones from his ears when you actually turned to look at him. 

“Hey–” 

“I won’t be long.” You simply responded, voice sounding much too sad for Draken’s liking. He noticed how your hand tensed up on the railing when he approached and it made him frown. “I’m just grabbing something for Michi–”

“I wanna talk to you.” He took another step, a tentative one. He hated how your eyes were already getting a little glassy. “Let’s just talk, sweetheart.”

“Don’t wanna talk, Ken.” There was that familiar shake in your tone, the one he had become very aware of. You were just like your brother in so many ways.

His sweet little crybaby. 

“C’mere…” He was on the step right in front of you now, the levelling allowing him to lean down just a bit so his face could be close to yours. You took your time meeting his gaze, fingers now fidgeting with the hem of your skirt. “It’s okay baby…” 

“You–” He could tell you were trying to gather your bearings, trying so desperately not to crumble and let the tears fall that were already sitting in your lashes. He was patient with you, scared that if he went in too strong you’d just run off from him again. You sucked in a shaky breath before continuing. “You really hurt me, Draken.” 

He could have hissed, chest getting a little tight. He hated the way that nickname sounded coming from you. 

“I know, I know little love and–” 

“Do you not wanna be my boyfriend? I thought you liked me.” 

“I do like you–”

“Then be my boyfriend.” It had been a bit more firm than he expected, your brows set and a little pout on your lips after you spoke it. Had things been a little different, he would have told you just how proud he was of you for standing your ground like that. 

“It’s not, it's just not that simple.” It was his turn to think his words over, lips catching between his teeth as those doubtful thoughts started returning to him. He was right, wasn’t he? It wasn’t that simple because– 

“Why not?” You were being blunt again, words bordering on angry as you sniffled. The first few tears finally fell and Draken wanted nothing more than to wipe them away. 

“Well to start, there’s your brother–” 

“I don’t care what Michi thinks!” You groaned it out as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I wanna be with you, Ken–” 

“But–” He really hated that he couldn’t seem to find the right words. 

“What are you so afraid of?”  

That really made Draken stop, eyes widening just a bit as he looked back into your teary ones. Your chest was heaving a bit as the silence sat heavily between the two of you. Draken blinked, once, twice, brain reeling over this one simple question. 

Draken had been in many fights, grew up in a brothel, seen blood and gore and sex and a lot of things people shouldn’t see. He wasn’t scared any of those times. So, why now? Why was he so scared now as he looked into your eyes that were basically pleading with him for an answer. 

“I–” His words were shaky, and finally broke the intense gaze the two of you were sharing as he looked down. “I dunno.” 

There was another beat of silence before you continued up the staircase. Draken only looked up when he knew you were at the top, far enough away from him that he didn’t have to feel like your gaze was piercing him. He wished that he didn’t look though, wished that he hadn’t seen that sad smile on your lips. 

He never wanted to see that ever again, not on you. 

“I hope I’ll still be around when you figure it out.” 

Drake wasn’t sure how much time had passed now since he had seen you. The first few days he refused to even think about that interaction on the stairs. That sad smile of yours easily pulls his heart apart and thinking back on it only made him more and more pissed at himself. 

So instead of thinking of you, he filled his time with work. He found himself opening and closing the shop, despite Inui trying to make him go back to their balanced schedule. He took on more projects, burying himself under the weight of grease and bolts instead of dealing with the weight that now sat in his chest.

You hadn’t come back to the shop yet either, he had a feeling you’d never come back. 

What got Draken out of work early one night was a call from Mitsuya. He called twice before Draken reluctantly picked up the phone, the annoyance clear in his tone as he held the phone to his ear with his shoulder. 

“Ya know m’working–” 

“Well, you sound just delighted to hear from me~” Mitsuya hummed, chuckling when he heard Draken’s grunt from the other end of the phone. Mitsuya was organising threads by colour when he spoke. “Come over tonight?” 

“I don’t feel like partying,” Draken answered back right away. What he meant though was that he didn’t wanna go in case Takemichi was there because then he would only remind him of– 

“It’s not gonna be a party doofus, it’ll just be us two.” Draken made a look of disgust, more so at the insult than anything else. “Just come.” 

“I have shit to do here–” He was trying his best to get out of this, but if anyone could see through Draken’s bullshit, it was Mitsuya. 

“You’ve locked yourself in that damn shop for the past week, I know you can make a little time to go out. Let Inui close tonight.”

“Nah, it’s my night.” It wasn’t.

“Bet you haven’t even showered.” 

“Oh fuck off–” Draken grunted, sniffing himself only because Mitsuya wasn’t there to give him the side-eye. He scowled softly to himself when the scent he picked up coming from his overalls was far from pleasant. “Will you quit nagging me if I come, mom?” 

“Absolutely buddy.” Mitsuya was chuckling softly, rolling in his chair to pull back up to his sewing table. “See you at 7, doofus.” 

Draken wasn’t given the opportunity to snap back with something clever, the phone went dead right away. With a huff Draken resultantly found himself putting his tools away, tucking his overused workbench in its proper corner so he could head off to Mistuya’s. 

But not without a shower first. 

Draken’s hair was still damp when he headed for Mitsuya’s place. With how fast Draken sped his bike down the freeway, it only took about ten minutes tops. Draken lugged a case of beer with him up to the familiar walkway that belonged to Mitsuya’s townhouse. When he opened the door he still had his work glasses on, a lazy grin tugging on his features when he was met with the sight of Draken’s scowling face. 

“Would you look at that, he showered.”

Draken just rolled his eyes, nudging past Mitsuya and making himself at home. The two found themselves quickly situated on the couch, spread out on each end and open beers on coasters. Mitsuya had pulled out his old N64, so the two were currently in a round of Mario kart. The silence had been comfortable between the two, as it usually was until Mitsuay finally decided to speak up. 

“So, what's got you fucked up?” 

“What?” Draken said with a short laugh, his eyes staying glued to the tv screen. 

“You only get all solitary like this when something is really bothering you, so–” 

“Nothin’s up, m’good.” Draken simply grunted, which quickly turned into a scowl when Mitusya passed him for first place in the game. “Quit distracting me.” 

“Is it Takemichi’s little sister?”

Draken almost choked on his beer, finally looking away from the screen to look at Mitsuya who was still calm as ever. Only after he passed the finish line did he meet Draken’s gaze, one brow lifted up. 

“What about her?” 

“You were seeing her–” 

“I was not.” 

Now it was Mitsuya’s turn to laugh, a hearty one too that only made Draken’s brows furrow further. He pulled his glasses from his face, sighing out as he shook his head. 

“You think you’re so hard to read, but you’re not.” Mitsuya kept talking before Draken could bark at him. “I know you kept seeing her after that night.” 

“Okay, so?” Draken wasn’t sure why he was getting so defensive, maybe it was because it pissed him off that Mitsuya knew him better than he knew himself. 

“So, did you two break up?”

“We were never together.” Draken simply stated, going to start another round of Mario kart. But as soon as the words left his lips he hated the way they sounded, and now that they were out there, floating around his head it made him grip his controller a little tighter. 

“Oh, you weren’t?” Mitsuya said, that dumb smile of his making Draken shake his head, grit his teeth even. It was Mitsuya’s turn to scoff, tipping his beer back to polish it off. “You are such a fuckin doofus dude.” 

“Watch your mouth man–” 

“Why are ya doing this to yourself?” Draken sucked in a little breath. The silence hung in the air between them a little and Mitsuya rolled his eyes when he saw how Draken’s head tipped slightly to the side in confusion. He continued as he opened up another beer. “Why aren’t you letting yourself be happy? You can do commitment, you’ve done it before.” 

Draken felt a little frozen in place, eyes unfocused as he tried to process what Mitsuya had so obviously laid out for him. His heart started to pick up in his chest as he really thought it over, well at least tried to. “Yea, I did it before and look what happened.” 

Flashes of his relationship with Emma were impossible to ignore. How things went from wonderful to terrible so quickly. How the two of them became each other's world so fast for it all to crash and burn. The fighting, the lies, how he was so scared after he lost her but to also lose everyone he loved. His found family was all he had, and if they had decided to up and leave– 

“Sure, it was a bad breakup,” Mitsuya spoke with a simple shrug of his shoulders, looking at Draken’s pained face over the lip of his bottle. “But it didn’t stay bad, did it?” 

“Guess not…” Draken murmured. It didn’t. He didn’t lose his best friends, he didn’t even really lose Emma. After time apart and some growing up, the two had gone back to speaking terms. 

“So, let yourself be happy, dude.” 

“But she’s another little sister–” 

“Yea you have a type.” Mitsuya couldn’t help but laugh, especially after Draken sent his controller flying at him. Mitsuya thankfully caught it, holding a hand up in defence. “Relax! I’m joking… The boys are gonna bug you about it, but Draken, who the fuck cares.” 

Draken slowly nodded at that, allowing himself to really think it all over. He had never been the type to care so much about what others thought about him. He was letting himself get in his head for something that was already over and done with. Rubbing his hand over his forehead, he picked up another beer, shaking his head as he twisted the top off to chug some of it down. 

“I hate you, you know that?” He mumbled to Mitsuya, which only made him laugh out loud in response. He clinked his bottle up against Draken’s. 

“Love you too buddy. You should really make up with her.” Draken eyed Mitsuya over the lip of his beer. “I assume you said some dumb guy shit to her.” 

Draken pouted, mumbling something along the lines of “maybe I did” before he took another drink. Looking down the stem of the bottle Draken sighed softly, thinking of that sad smile on your face. It made him scoff at himself. “I just– I’m not sure I’ll be able to treat her right, as her boyfriend.” 

“Well, she’s stuck around this long, hasn’t she?” Mitsuya started to set up another game of Mario Kart for the two of them as Draken nodded slowly. “I’m sure if she didn’t think you’d treat her right, she woulda left.” 

Those couple words were left lingering in Draken’s head the rest of the evening. Mitsuya didn’t bring it up again, and Draken didn’t dare to. But as he started to pass out on his friend's couch, he had one too many beers to be driving himself home, he really thought over what Mitsuya had said. What he knew was right. 

I’m sure if she didn’t think you'd treat her right, she woulda left. 

Draken chuckled softly to himself, his palm coming up to slap him right on the forehead. The sting made him hiss to himself, but it's what he deserved. He’d never admit it out loud, but sometimes he wished his brain worked the way Mitsuya’s did. 

“I’m such an idiot.” He spoke, and it was Mitsuya sleepy agreeing with him on the couch beside him that had him laughing all over again. 

He knew you’d be finishing classes up on campus right now, had picked you up and dropped you off many times before to know that you’d be coming out of the big college building any minute now. He parked right out front, his hands dug deep into his pockets as he watched the door. His eyes scanned over many faces, all different kinds, all of them filtering through, onyx gaze trying to lock onto– 

You. 

You were in the middle of giggling, those familiar wrinkles showing up around the corners of your eyes, your pretty manicured nails holding the books you had tighter to your chest. The image made him smile fondly, lips upturned just a little when the two of you finally made eye contact. 

He was more than grateful that you returned the small smile. The darkest parts of him had conceived him; you'd simply walk right by him, or even turn around in the opposite direction. But instead, you excused yourself from your friends, who all couldn’t help but side-eye the older, imitating dude leaning on a motorcycle, dragon tattoo on full display with his hair pulled up in a loose ponytail. As you approach he speaks, unable to keep his eyes off your own. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi, Ken.” Just the way you say his name makes his heart flutter a little. He moves to the side, opening up the small compartment on his bike that’ll allow you to put your books inside. 

“Come with me?” He asks, and the momentary silence makes him feel more nervous than he had in a long time. You could say no, he could have taken too long. You could have already slipped right out of his fingertips and it would be all his fault– 

“Okay.” You simply reply, and your smile doesn’t falter. It stays as you tuck your books away, as he places his helmet on your bread and helps you adjust the straps. You in front of him on the bike just as you had on that first night he picked you up. His hands easily swallowed yours on the handlebars, and before you knew it the two of you were speeding off towards his place. You knew that because the route had become too familiar after the many times he’d whisked you away after school. Your heart was beating fast in your chest like it normally did when you rode on Draken’s bike. It filled you with a type of adrenaline you hadn’t been able to find anywhere else. 

That and the fact that his hands seemed to be holding yours tighter than usual. 

After a couple of sharp turns and uphill roads, you two made it to Draken’s apartment. He gave you your space as you two headed to his room a couple of floors up, his heart seeming to be in his throat. He needed to relax, he knew exactly what he had to say to you, knew what he had to do, and yet as he fiddled with his keys a bit to find the right one that opened his apartment, the familiar scent of your perfume was making his brain a little foggy. 

It was the warmth of your fingers that shook him from whatever haze he was in, the tips of his ears feeling a bit hot as your fingers easily tugged the right key, helped him slip it into the lock. “It’s this one, Ken.” You say it as if your presence alone isn’t making him weak at the knees. 

He just nodded, allowing you in first. Shoes were slipped off and the two of you found yourself in his kitchen. You stood right in the middle, your arms tucked neatly behind your back, hands clasped. He missed the way you used to make yourself at home, grabbing something from his fridge or sprawling out on his couch. 

He wanted you to be that comfortable again. 

“I really needed to see you.” He started, his voice a little hesitant. He cleared his throat, fingers once again in his pockets. He looked everywhere but at you, despite the way he felt your gentle gaze burning into him. “I needed, I just–” He huffed. “I really fucked up–” 

There was your familiar warmth again, but instead, you were grabbing at one of his hands. So easily your fingers threaded into his, and suddenly the weight in his tummy didn’t feel all that heavy as he looked down at you, those wide pretty eyes he had missed so fucking much. “You did kinda fuck up–” You murmur, which makes him huff again, this time with a hint of laughter behind it. “I know I did. I know.”

He pulled you in a little closer, and he was so very grateful that you weren't resistant. In fact, you melted into his chest, your face finding that familiar comfortable spot against his peck, cheek pressed up against where you felt his heartbeat, which was currently pounding in his chest. He sucks in another breath, one hand coming to gently pet your head. “I’m sorry, I’m real sorry sweetheart…” He feels the way you start to tremble and it eats at him, brows furrowing up. “Please, don’t babygirl, m’tryna apologise to you–” 

“Don’t be dumb like that ever again Ken.” Your voice waves and he knows you’re about to cry, but he doesn't stop you from speaking, if anything, your shaky words only make him hold you tighter, a fond smile coming to his lips. “Don’t leave me like that again!” Your voice cracks and Ken has to chuckle under his breath, but there's no bite to his laughter, only fondness. “Next time, just talk to me. I-I know I’m younger and inexperienced b-but I know what I want and that's you–” 

That's when he finally stops you, one big palm cupping your cheek. He tilts your head up, thumb smoothing over your cheekbone before he's pressing a smooch to your lips. You both seem to relax against the embrace, and when he feels a salty tear hit his thumb he swipes it away, lips parting from your just enough so he can murmur against them. 

“I know, lil love. I know.” When your lower lip trembles a bit a smile breaks out on his lips. One that makes the corner of his lips twitch, little wrinkles showing up around his eyes. His hands cup your neck so gently, thumbs pressing up against the underside of your jaw. He murmurs again, this time his words slurred along with your breathy, soft whimper. “I want you too…” 

This time the kiss is desperate, needy. Your fingers turn white at the knuckles when you grip at his shirt, lips moulding against his own. Draken’s tongue is impatient, slithering into your open mouth and reexploring the warm cavern that is your mouth. He huffs when your chest presses flush to him, and with ease his big hands cup your thighs, scooping you into his embrace. Your legs cling to his waist without a thought, the giddy giggle bubbling from your lips and against his own making a bit of blush rise on his cheeks. 

Oh, how he missed that sweet, sweet sound. 

Draken tries not to trip over himself as he carries you off to his bedroom, his back hitting up against the door at the same time your teeth playfully tug at his bottom lip. He drops you down and the bounce of your body has both of you a little too excited, Draken’s shirt easily coming off as he tugs it up over his head. 

“Lemme show you how badly I want you, baby.” His voice has already gotten deeper, and as his big hand comes to cup the back of your neck to pull you in for another kiss he’s a bit surprised when both your palms press against his chest, pushing him away an inch.

Surprised and panicked. Was he moving too fast, did you think he was just using you in your vulnerable moment? Had he really fucked up so soon again– 

His breath left him in a huff when his back hit the mattress, your body rolling over him. He blinked a few times as you straddled him, palms pressed against his chest and your face heated. He could tell that a flush was working its way up to your cheeks when you looked down at him, your body slowly scooting down from his waist to his hips. 

“No, let me s-show you.” Despite just how nervous you were, Draken could tell by the way you chewed on your lower lip, how your fingers trembled a little, undoing his belt and zipper, his cock still twitched with excitement underneath you an odd sense of pride flowing through him. 

You had come a long way, from the virgin he met all those months ago. He had just been the biggest idiot and here he was, pushing his hair from his face so he could watch how your pretty little hands handled his semi-hard cock with such care. How you looked at him first, batted your lashes when you leaned in and pressed the sweetest of kisses right to his tip. 

“Oh fuck—“ 

Yea, he was never letting you go again, ever. 

You took a deep breath through your nose before taking his tip between your lips, your eyes never leaving his dilated ones. He propped himself up on an elbow, free hand easing the hair away from your face. It was a sight that would be burned into his mind forever. Wide doe eyes, hand barely wrapped around his fat base, pretty lips suckling away at his tip. 

“You’re gonna be the fuckin death of me pretty girl.” Draken chuckles breathlessly, and the little glint in your eyes tells him you would have smiled had your lips not been preoccupied. He kept his hand gentle on the back of your head as you slowly took more of him, your tongue flattening out against his underside. His head tilted back in a groan at your steady pace, the warmth of your mouth making his skin prickle with pleasure. His fingers curled in your hair just a bit, enough to hold him back from jerking his hips into you, make you gag– 

He’d save it for another time. 

“Atta girl…” He murmured, chest rising and falling a little faster as you gained your rhythm. Your eyes peaked up at him again, before you got back into it, cheeks hollowing as you took as much of him into your mouth as possible. You reached about halfway, which Draken noticed made your brows furrow up. 

“S’okay, we’ve got plenty of time to make it fit, keep going lil love.” He encouraged, and you listened, head continuing to bob faster, sloppier. Draken could feel your drool dribbling down his shaft and onto his balls and it made him shiver. It didn’t help that your ass was up high, practically swaying like an excited little puppy just to be sucking him off. Swearing under his breath a moment as his balls suddenly felt all too tight, he pulled you off his cock, the pornographic pop of your lips making him grunt, you whine. The string of drool connecting your swollen lips to his cock was thick, and when it snapped onto your chin Draken could feel himself getting lightheaded. 

“W-Why did you–” He silenced your whining with another fierce kiss, and without hesitation you were manhandled back into his pillows, flat on your back. He has no problem working your soiled panties off your thighs, deciding to just tuck the extra material of your skirt into the waistband “Felt fucking awesome.” Your panties are tossed right over your shoulder, a cute yelp leaving you when he hauls both your thighs up, over his shoulders. “But I wanna cum in this pretty pussy.” 

From this position your pussy was split wide open for him, your clit poking out and throbbing from under the hood. He sighed, content, pausing his previous actions to lean in, pressing the softest of kisses right up against your clit. 

“My pretty pussy.” His soft touch is gone, replaced with his burning desire to claim you again. A few rubs of his cock against your slicken folds, along with your drool is enough to get his cock wet enough to slip in. His breathing hitches once his head makes it past the tight ring of your muscles, the squeeze vice-like just from the simple intrusion. 

“K-Ken–” 

“Shh, I know.” He coos, hunching over you. With your thighs on his shoulders, his shifting has you in a mating press, a position that all too knew and is making your head spin. Your tummy folds the closer he gets to you, the pad of his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your clit while the other intertwines with the hand you had gripping the sheets close to your head. “S’always gonna be a lil tight, isn’t it babygirl.” 

You’re already moaning in a wonton fashion, eyes struggling to stay open as he rocks his cock head in and out, his thumb working at your nub. When your pussy starts fluttering for him he works in a few more inches, needy sounds spilling into each other mouth due to his lips staying inches away from your own. “Gonna take it all f’me? Be my good girl?”  

You nod, and when you look at him again your eyes have that familiar glassy sheen he’s grown to love. He kisses you right under the eye before with one good push his cock is all the way inside. The sound you make is downright sinful, something between a cry and a mewl and it has Draken’s cock twitching within the tightness of your cunt. It makes his vision go a little stary, the growl he releases vibrating through his chest. 

“Good fucking girl.” The slap of his hips into your ass resounds throughout the room, squelching soon coming from between your bodies. In this position his cock nuzzles your sweet spot, seeming to reach down deep, into parts of you that you didn’t even realise existed, and it quickly has you falling apart, babbles freely spilling from your lips, tears wetting your hot cheeks. Draken is quick to kiss them away, his fingers tightening around yours as he puffs hot pants along your face. 

“D-Deep~!” You manage to squeak, and Draken has to crack a grin, his hips suddenly stopping their brutal pace just so he can roll them instead. That had you gasping, drool spilling from your hung lips as you look up at him with a gaze that's already beyond fucked out. “S’real deep baby, s’good though yea?” 

You nod, fresh tears on your lashes. “Only the best for my baby.” He utters, hips switching back and forth between rutting and grinding. He’s convinced you’ve already cum on his cock, the amount of slick bubbling around his shaft and the tightness of your walls are his hints, but he keeps going, needing to fill you up after so long. Despite your cries, he brings his hand back to your clit, his rubs becoming sloppy. He only releases your hand to cup the back of your neck instead, keeping your foreheads pressed together. 

“Eyes on me, lil love.” You do manage to open your teary eyes, meeting his dilated pupils. “Good, good girl.” His body starts to twitch, broad shoulders rippling and his thighs starting to tremble as his own release quickly builds in his gut. “I– fuck. Baby, I love you, pretty–” 

And despite just how dumbed out you were moments before, those words seem to bring some clarity to your eyes. Your fingers tangle into his sweaty hair, gripping it at the roots for your sanity. The pleasant little laugh you let out and breathe against his lips makes his heart jump against his ribcage. 

“I love y-you Ken, love you so much, Kenny–” 

His climax hits him hard, the full-body chill he experiences making goosebumps rise along his spine as he fills you up. The feeling of his warm, thick cum is enough to have you coming undone right along with him, the sensation being yet another new one when liquid seems to gush past your little hole. It makes Draken’s balls tighten up instantly, the warm splash of your arousal onto his fingers that still gently coax pleasure out of your clit. And he can’t help but grin, a boyish grin that quickly turns into a grunt. “Fuck, fuckin squirtin on me, how cute.” 

He doesn’t pull out, he can’t. He needs to be close to you, keep your limp body tucked carefully underneath him. You’re too far in to even notice the mess, your whines and whimpers dwindling down into soft breaths as he turns to his side, keeping you in his chest. His cock slowly softens in your walls, and even then, Draken’s keeps you glued to him as you both come down, tremors and pants still coming over both of you. 

“Sweetheart.” He murmurs, face nuzzling up against your temple. When he gets a whine in return he holds you closer, careful to ease your face away from his chest so he can cover your tear-streaked face in kisses. “You’re okay, my baby…” 

Draken is usually more responsible than this. Then to let you two doze off without a proper clean-up. But feeling your soft heartbeat against his, your fingers still lost in his hair, your lips pressed right up into the crook of his neck and puffing soft air, he just couldn't bring himself to let go. He didn’t want to let go now, or ever. Keeping you here, wrapped in his embrace, he was certain that you’d be there tomorrow morning too, with that beautiful smile he had fallen stupidly, hopelessly, in love with. 

Fuck it. He was taking on the little sister fucker title with pride. 

“Kenny, your hand is sweaty.” You murmur, trying to hold back your laughter when he shoots you a glare, pulling his hand away from you and dramatically rubbing it along his jeans. 

“Fine, just won’t hold your hand, brat” He grumbles, and that sets you over, wrapping your arms around him mid-walk to press small kisses along his collar bones. 

Draken hadn’t felt this nervous ever, in his entire life (this was a lie, he’s just dramatic as ever). The two of you were only steps away from your place, the same place you and Takemichi lived in together. Everyone was there, the entire found family, and you two were now official…

He was getting flashbacks of the group chat, his friend's ruthless behaviour, the way Takemichi hadn’t talked to him for one whole week, and the sweet satisfaction Baji got when he got one free punch to his jaw for Takemichi’s sake. 

“Maybe we can tell them next week, or over a call. Whattya think lil love,” Draken murmured, his face hiding in your hairline. Your sweet laughter sent that familiar warmth through his chest, and one good tug on his hand had him reluctantly walking back towards the house. “You’ll be fine.” You say with a smile, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. “We’re gonna do it together.” 

When you hopped up onto the front step, Draken’s eyes trailed down to the sweet dangling sound that was the anklet looped around your ankle. The gold one, with his initials, right where it belonged. The sight had him calming a little, brows furrowed in the way they usually did when he became focused. “Right, together.” 

“Michi-nii!” You call out once the two of you enter the house, the sound of music and chatter already filling the front entrance. Draken holds your hand a little tighter as if he had been entering a place he’d never been before. 

“Living room!” Takemichi calls out, surrounded by founding members of toman, each huddled around the kotatsu table that was covered in snacks, beers, and cards. Oddly enough the chatter died down as Takemichi was dealing out for another round, a laugh leaving his lips. 

“You guys gonna take this round seriously–” It was Mikey’s elbow into his ribs that silenced him, a little puff escaping his lungs. He was about to complain when his eyes were brought to what everyone seemed to be staring at. 

And that was you, beaming smile and all, with your hand held tightly by Draken’s, who couldn't seem to make eye contact with anyone. 

“Hi Michi~ Hi everyone! What are ya–” 

“Finally.” Mitsuya was the first to mutter, leaning back further into his spot on the couch. “Chifuyu, you owe me 20 bucks, told you they’d come out today.” 

“No fair!” Chifuyu blurted out, grumbling when he reluctantly pulled bills from his pocket. Pah and Peh were the first to start laughing, clinking their beers together.” 

“Wait, you knew? How?” Mikey questioned Mitsuya, who triumphantly took the money from Chifuyu with a laugh of his own. Kazutora was even starting to crack up, hiding his smirk behind his beer. 

And despite all the commotion, Takemichi sat dumbfounded, eyes glued to yours and Draken’s intertwined hands. When he did finally speak, it only made the group that much rowdier. 

“Well, what the fuck is this–” 

“Time for another punch,” Baji said with that signature grin of his, basically hoping from his spot on the couch. 

“Wait wait!” You said, your pout only stirring the pot further. “No one is punching anyone! We’re–”

“We are dating,” Draken said, eyes a bit narrowed as he spoke. “We’re dating, Takemichi, I wanna date your sister, and I’m gonna.” 

There was another round of silence in the room, but it didn’t last, not when Pah mumbled under his breath. 

“Classic sister fucker–”

“Well, you could have at least asked first?!” Takemichi was dramatic as ever, tears swelling up in his eyes at the thought of his precious little sister being tarnished by the big, mean, scary man that was Draken. He let go of your hand then, being just as dramatic as Takemichi if not more so “I did ask, I just asked in front of everyone.” 

“But you’re already dating, have been a while no…?” Classic Mitsuya, stirring the pot and making everyone act up yet again. 

“Now why would you say that you ass–”

“C’mon Michi, I’ll punch him again for you, one good punch like last time–” Baji was punching at the air for emphasis. 

“Sister fucker behaviour,” Peh said with a shake of his head, only making Pah laugh harder. 

And amidst the bickering and nonsense that always seemed to break out between the boys, you took a seat next to Mikey, taking the Taiyaki he had to offer you with a little huff. He noticed the anklet, observant as ever as you rolled your eyes when Takemichi actually started crying, something about you losing your innocence. 

“He’ll treat you right.” You looked at Mikey, who spared you a small smile and a pat on the head. “Draken–”

“I know!” You responded happily, eyeing him as he held Baji back, the nerves he was feeling earlier long gone. You took a bite of the Taiyaki and giggled. 

“I can’t wait to be with him, forever!”

property of kenslilove, do not copy, repost, translate, or move onto any other platform!! 

[chokchokk]

𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽, 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 | song mingi x fem!reader

an ao3 requested husband!mingi one-shot

"Are you trying to challenge me?"

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : You come home stressed, feeling like the world wants only the worst from you. Good thing that your husband wants the best, right? Right...

"Baby, I would never do such a thing."

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : fluff, smut

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 7.3k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : established relationship, girlboss office worker!reader, stay at home husband!mingi, praise kink, hand kink, size kink, service top!mingi, use of the pet-name “baby”, starts rougher but then gets really soft and gentle, cunnilingus, fingering, over-stimulation, passionate sex; reader and mingi are in their late 20s/early 30s, reader is a bit bratty but mingi is a brat as well, it pains writer mingi is not a sub in this FUCK, he puts reader in place just a tiny bit, but the dynamics are pretty even, reader and mingi love each other deeply

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : i wanted to make mingi wear a tanktop but when i digged for it THERE WAS NOTHING???? we never got tanktop!mingi selcas???? how do yall not die of hunger, no, THIRST?

anyhow. this was an ao3 request!!! i had lots of loving fun with it and i hope you do as well babes and bbies xoxo

masterlist link | join my taglist

Did you know married employees are respected more?

Well, that’s what statistics say, but you certainly have never had this observation be proven true. It’s been almost a year since the first time you’ve worn your ring at your work-place, but you still get weird looks for having settled down “too early in the relationship” at such a “young age”, as if they knew anything about your private life— so no, you don’t. You wouldn’t know anything about being respected more as a married employee, even if you’re a few working hours away from being promoted to General Manager.

You throw your keys into their respective tray and hold your nose-bridge, when you enter your house with the sound of your shoes immediately falling to the floor after you shake them off in frustration. Yes, you may have earned your money, but at what cost? To hear old people pick you out because “such a fragile thing can’t possibly handle life”, despite being their lead director, have their hairy fingers pointed towards you since “someone like Y/N needs extra checking” despite you never having missed a dead-line, and to be eyed by them while you’re just trying to get your papers— oh, fucking hell; that is, by definition, not respect, that is horror, and one more reason to finally just quit your job and—

“Baby, you’re home!”

You take deep breath.

“Here I am.”

“Allow me,” your husband hums, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his torso close to your back; he’s rubbing himself against you with the excuse that he’s helping you get that fucking bag from your hands, and you let out an exhale once the weight is removed from your grip and lands on the floor. He is masterfully not referring to the fact that you came a full hour later than the initial time you have texted him you would arrive, and rather focusing on the how your shoulders feel more tense than usual, massaging his strong thumbs into them.

“Thank you,” you sigh and lean the back of your head against his breast, for he’s towering over you like a guardian pressing gentle kisses onto your hair, making him one comfortable, cushioned wall. You feel a bit guilty for not having asked how his day went, but for all you know, he’s having a blast arranging his new studio that he wants to use in the future to produce with other music artists, but most importantly, help you earn money.

Your stay-at-home husband, Song Mingi. The man who makes it— the time, the work, the stress— all worth it.

“How do you feel, baby?”, he murmurs, kissing your temple while he’s at it. He brushed his teeth not too long ago, you can smell the remains of mint toothpaste at his lip. Is he being obvious? Yes, maybe. You're not complaining though. “Rough day?”

“Yeah,” you exhale and let yourself be touched by your husband, though it doesn’t make you as calm as it should in your heart. You’re not craving for any soft vicinity here, you want to smash something to the ground and stomp on it; you’ve spend the whole day surrounded by the loudest, noisy, dim-witted idiots who are certainly preying on your downfall if they don’t fucking—

“Tell me all about it, baby,” Mingi murmurs, his vocal chords vibrating against the back of your head, as he rests his chin on top of it. “I’m listening.”

Sometimes you ask yourself whether you would still be receiving the same comments, if your co-workers knew who Mingi was. Not because he’s some famous man to be afraid of, but because he is taller than all of them, has got a louder voice and could knock those douchebags out with his muscly arms— okay, maybe they should be afraid. Very afraid.

“No, it’s okay,” you breathe and turn around to get your arms around your husband’s waist and press your face into his collarbones that you didn’t realize were revealed. "Button up,” you murmur, almost annoyed that you can inhale Mingi’s comforting scent through the cleavage as well as you can. You wanted to stay angry for just a little bit longer, but your husband makes it nearly impossible. Not to say it doesn’t make feel you any less hot though.

“What do you mean?", Mingi pouts, "Is it not good? I showered! Just for you, baby.”

You chuckle and your lips graze his freshly-washed, freshly-lotioned baby-smooth skin. “No… It’s too good…”

Mingi gets his hands into your hair and rubs his finger tips across your scalp.

“What were you stressed about, baby?”, Mingi continues to ask you, applying a bit of pressure to his touch, his hand feeling like it’s ripping off the upper layer of your head in the best way possible.

“My co-workers hate me,” you murmur, teeth gritted. Your breast begins to slightly enflame at the thought of your co-workers’ faces, but your husband doesn’t seem to mind your tone as much, allowing your mind to roam freely.

“Hate you?”

“They, like, hate my existence.”

“What would they hate you for, baby?”, he asks, working his long fingers down to the lower side of your head, reaching for your neck to scratch it. His hand is well big enough to do all of it at the same time.

Preparing to answer his question, you inhale and exhale deeply, smelling the clothing and leaving it warm.

“They hate that… I’m already settled down at my age.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And that I am as confident about it and— and as hard-working as I am…”

Mingi chuckles and strokes your hair one time to get your hair in its right place after having mushed it. His touch expands warmly on your scalp and it spreads like a soothing wave of comfort.

“They hate that,” you inhale, and then —with revelation— exhale, “I’m such a strong, successful woman.”

“There you go. My strong,” Mingi murmurs, and he’s letting his hands glide down your back, “successful,” further down your ass, “wife.” Squeeze.

“Oh,” you chuckle, fully aware that nothing is on your husband’s mind rather than to persuade you to get into bed with him. Cleaning his teeth, showering, putting on fresh clothes— Did he even shave his beard by himself? Wow.

After almost a year of marriage, some clues become very self-explanatory.

His amazing hands work their amazing ways on your ass, and as it goes for Mingi, he always prides himself that he can make you melt under his touch, especially when you come home from work late on days like these.

“You should just let your anger out on them next time,” Mingi smiles, cupping your ass with the big surface of his hand and you can feel how he’s trying to figure out whether he can raise you up like this— spoiler: he can— and continues to encourage you. “Or on me.”

Were you implying your co-workers should be scared of Mingi? Yes, but also no. For someone your size, despite seemingly being ever-so tiny in your husband’s embrace, to make it so big in such a short time is astounding; ground-breaking, even. You may or may not know, but Mingi finds you are one cold-blooded woman whose blood only boils when she’s being provoked, and if there is one thing your husband wants you to prove to your co-workers, it’s that you won’t think twice once you’ve got the title of being their supervisor.

Too harsh? Maybe. But that’s something you can consider when they’re begging you to accept their apologies, no?

“Don’t edge me on, or I might actually turn into the Hulk or something,” you laugh hoarsely and raise your head up to him. Mingi looks down immediately and grins, continuously groping his hands into your butt.

“You can’t scare me,” he lulls and kisses your forehead, “because you’ll always be my little baby, Y/N.”

“Ohh, shut it,” you sneer and can’t deny that Mingi is the only one who can make you feel this small, “I wouldn’t be too sure I can’t scare you.”

“Do try, please,” Mingi insists with a cheeky smirk and gung-ho, you’re raised from the floor, being carried to the bedroom. Was that a challenge you heard?

“Be rough all you want tonight, alright? I don’t think your stress is gonna get away our traditional way today.”

“Really? ‘Traditional’?”, you huff and raise an eyebrow, Mingi kissing your cheek, as he opens the door to your bedroom.

“It’s almost our anniversary, let’s try something new, baby. I'll do anything you want. Don't care about me. I'll just be... you know. I don't know.”

“What? Is my husband getting bored of being in charge?”, you gasp theatrically, easing your hands into his shoulders, “Does hubby want me to order him around?”

“Let’s get rid of the terminology,” Mingi mutters, a bit sheepish, not wanting to admit that he read the term ‘service top’ somewhere in the deepest corners of the internet earlier this evening and had to ask you when you came home. You coming home an hour later just made him travel further the needy path, imagining how good he could make love to you, when his "own pleasure isn't the focus" (that's a quote from the website.)

“I just want my wonderful wife,” Mingi sighs, as he lets himself fall on the mattress backwards, with you landing on his hard-on, knees propped next to his hips, “And relieve you from all your stress.”

You’re still in your office attire, got your tie on tight around your neck, everything that screams ‘not ready for bed’, but Mingi doesn’t seem to care for your sheets to become dirty. In fact, he apparently wants you to be the dirtiest you’ve ever been, huh?

His long, slender fingers hold you by your jaw, as your husband roughly presses his lips into yours, immediately opening up his mouth to get a second taste with his tongue. While he tastes like mint toothpaste, you taste like bittersweet coffee, diligence and dedication; you are dancing heavenly on Mingi’s tastebuds, and his tongue laps over yours eagerly to not let any drop of your essence go to waste. He’s making you feel wanted, no, he wants you, and as Mingi takes your blazer off, your own desire to have him grows bigger with each passing second.

Your legs feel a bit tight due to the fabrics of your suit, but it doesn’t prevent you from grinding yourself into him, pants interrupting your greedy kiss. “Let’s get this off,” Mingi murmurs into your lips, hooking his finger into your tie, loosening it up, pulling it until he can wriggle your head through.

“Let’s get all of this off,” you reciprocate and his hands are on your waist, as Mingi watches you flawlessly open up the buttons of your blouse, tongue running over his lower lip. “Your co-workers don’t know you,” he chuckles, admiring you sitting on top of him with a look in your eyes that he could feast on for days, “But they should know that you are, fuck, breath-taking.”

You move your hips over his crotch, enjoying hearing your husband gutter out his thoughts.

“You are eye-candy in that, baby,” Mingi heaves, “I’m getting kinda jealous of your co-workers here.”

Cheeky, you let the blouse droop over your shoulders, revealing your lacy bra. Saying that you’re eye-candy doesn’t put it into words, Mingi thinks, and gulps at the sight of you stroking over your own torso and your breast that is just being so perfectly pushed by your lingerie, and— though it barely needs any convincing for him to swathe his tongue around your pretty nipples and get even more prettier sounds out of you— your slight gesture gets your husband’s head fuming with the things he wants to do to you to make you crumble and eat it all up deliciously, not leave anything behind.

“I bet they don’t get to see this though,” he grins and with a quick, studied flick of his fingers, the tightness around your torso is released and your tits are out for Mingi stare into. “Only I get to see this, don’t I?"

You nod and sigh, when he traces the red indents from your underwear with his thumbs and wets his lips; but before you think he's being too gentle, Mingi doesn't let you speak out the words 'yes, only you do' and interrupts you with his mouth, his hands holding you by your waist.

"Mingi," you pant. He has pushed you over on your back to the mattress without warning, caging you in with his frame. "Sorry, baby," he grins, pulls off his tank-top, throws it on the floor, quickly— he's got things to do here!— and then zips open your pants, kissing you from your cheek down to your collarbones, covering your body with his fresh breath. "Works better this way."

Mingi hooks his fingers into your trousers and pulls it off until your panties are revealed to him, but before he's able to wriggle it down to your calves and finally have it off your body, he's having a moment to look at his wife laying in front of him; your glowing eyes are glancing up, waiting, no, teasing, urging him on to do what Mingi has been planning to do since the first time he asked you when you would arrive back home.

"Please don't mention 'work'," you hiss, pushing your tongue against the inner space of your mouth.

He knows. He has never been there at your work-place, and he never asks you more about it than he should, because Mingi does think that his distraction works way better than to rant for hours, and he sees it, feels it— your anger, your frustration, your stress— but does he... well, how should he say this... care for it?

No.

"Why not?", is what Mingi whispers into your skin to make you roll your eyes and border him in with your thighs, the pants that aren't off yet keeping him between your legs. Fuck, you're so hot when you're stressed.

Okay, wait, wait, wait— hear him out.

First, please forgive him. You really have to. Mingi would never say this out loud, not under any circumstance that doesn't include you directly asking for it, but shit, look at yourself right now. Enveloped by your open blouse, your perfect breasts hanging out of it like a window luring him to peek like the shameful man he is, your facial expression judging him for his fawning— you are a goddess in his eyes, Y/N. And gods get angry. And then, when they're angry, they're the most powerful they ever are.

So there you go; Mingi, even though he's a husband that has never, ever throughout your marriage or your relationship, made you angrier for more than 24 hours, kinda enjoys it when you come home stressed, gritting your teeth, panting, groaning— talking to him with umph. The stress makes you riled up, makes you breathe fire, shoot flames out of your eyes that seduce him to be even more ignited, just for you.

"Are you trying to challenge me?", you huff and Mingi makes himself comfortable, placing his elbows around the sides of your body, anchoring himself on your lower abdomen with his forearm.

"Baby," he grins, kissing the inner sides of your thighs, "I would never do such a thing."

Except he is. When you get— and your husband thinks he's a genius to think of this— 'worked up', you become demanding, slightly sassy, playful, and there is nothing Mingi loves more than his wife to tell him exactly what she wants, because he knows he can be a bit dense sometimes. He tries his best, always, to do things according to your liking, but usually, you just let him do his thing since sometimes you need nothing more than his presence.

"I would never tease you like that, my," he pesters, "baby." With his lips stuck at the last inch before he's able to get it near your clothed cunt, you scoff, pressing your thighs together to squeeze his face.

"You better fucking not tease me tonight," you warn him and Mingi bites his lip, feeling his already-very-hard cock twitch inside his joggers at the cause of your tone.

"I love you too much," your husband answers and moves his head around, his pointy nose grazing against your covered clit. Like an automatic reaction, you gulp and throw your face to the side, your hand intertwining with Mingi's long fingers that are resting at the seam of your panties.

"Oh, please," you taunt, “dare to give me your worst performance,” and you think you're safe, since his hands are occupied with yours, but when you are in bed with him, and proceed to tease Mingi like this, then you are never safe with your husband.

(Except the part that you are safe, and safe with the thought Mingi is indeed going to relieve you.) Pressing his tongue against the fabric, Mingi curves it into the band, pushing it with ease, without any type of struggle to— and you should've seen this coming— plunge his tongue into your folds. "Fuck, Mingi," you breathe and he's chuckling against your wet cunt, as he laps his wet muscle over your slickness to gather what has been collecting in your underwear, slow and sensually, though his heavy breathing tells you that he's going to feast on it in no time.

He ‘loves you’, you know that, but ‘too much'? — Can there ever be too much?

"Ohh, fuck, that's good, right fucking there," you groan, gripping into Mingi's hand. With your feedback, Mingi continues to purl over your clit, sucking the fluid so it can spread on his tongue and melt in his mouth.

No. There could never be too much.

You taste so delicious, and it goes without saying that Mingi finds it fascinating that you look even better from this angle; he can see every lash of yours flutter with the slow flicking of his tongue, adding speed as he goes. “Yes,” you whimper, “‘feels so good.”

His heart and mouth are cooperating wonderfully, as his lips are spelling words of awe into your labia; He’s pronouncing how good it feels so good to be your husband, how good it feels to do good— and oh, it is so good to be yours, Y/N. You can’t even believe. The sounds you let out tingle all of his senses and he’s definitely going to have to hurry with his studio, if he wants to eternalise them.

Mingi holds the eye-contact to not miss any of your expressions, laving at your cunt with bizarre flexibility that makes you twist here and there, but his forearm is pressing you down to keep you on your back. "Squirmy," he grins, babying you while you are unable to open move your legs, since your own set of trousers is keeping them closed together, "am I doing you that well?”

Panting because of how constrained you are despite wanting to move around so much, you throw your head down on the soft mattress. "Uh-huh," you exhale, feeling his tongue circle around your clit and tease itself into your entrance, "so well."

Mingi's head is spinning. He wants to make you cum so fast, but he also wants you to beg for your orgasm until your voice is hoarse from the moaning, just so he can see your ribcage move up and down the bed one more time, no, please so many times, and maybe he could get his fingers in so he can— fuck, didn't he plan this out?

He makes it look easy, but in your husband’s mind, he's puzzling and figuring out the ways to pleasure you the best way he can. Mingi heaves and laughs, noticing how he's been cutting himself short of breath, too excited to be pleasuring you. "You’re so beautiful, baby," he says, voice having become raspy and an octave lower than usual; it appears to you that he's drunk on your taste, "you're making me insane with that view."

You inhale through your mouth with your lip-corners pointing upwards, a bit shy with your husband's praise, but you have no other way around than to listen to Mingi's dreamy words. "Unnh-huh," you react, but once your husband is laving at your cunt again, talking amidst of it, you are becoming a mindlessly noisy mess.

"My pretty baby," Mingi murmurs, and as he does so, his mouth is flocking in your slick, tickling your clit repeatedly, "my prettiest, loveliest baby, so whiny for me, fuck."

"More, Mingi," you grunt, feeling like the blouse is keeping you tight, so you push yourself up and get it off your arms— Mingi uses his chance to pull your panties over your knees— and after that, the male digs deeper into your crevice, thighs pressing him in which makes him gasp for dear air, "please."

Your pleads are meaningful to him, make his heart jump, make his head click like he's a dog being asked to obey, and okay, Mingi doesn't think he wants to be a pet, let alone an animal, but— you know what? Your pleads not only show what a considerate wife you are, it also makes Mingi know how much you want him, and that’s the best feeling in the entire world, and he would do everything to chase your pleasure and praise.

“Oh, I got all night, baby,” your husband chuckles, he’s grinding himself against the bed, huffing and panting, tongue delving deep into you on your command.

He drags the intertwined hands of yours down the tiny bit it needs for his thumb to meet your clit, and as Mingi rubs extensively over it, your knuckles go white from how strongly you grip into his fingers.

Oh god, this is exactly what you wanted. His tongue, his lips, his hands, oh, his hands— his fingers; those ridiculously long fingers that cover your whole pelvic bone when extended— slender and rapid, frantically incautious over your cunt, so eager to push you over the edge, pull you back up and throw you over again and again; you love how they look against your body, on your head, on your neck, on your cunt, everywhere they travel during your desirous journeys.

"Aren't I so scarily good?", Mingi huffs, nervy and immodest, talking to get himself to breathe, clearly confident that you are feeling the best you've felt the whole day given the way your muscle was contracting around his tongue, when it was still in you; unfortunately you're unable to answer him with words, just letting out another gutsy "unnnh" as feedback.

"I know, oh, I know," he grins, his thumb rubbing over your clit like he's racing with your stuttered breath, but ultimately, he’s making you feel quite empty with the lack of his mouth at your cunt, and he’s making you feel that way on purpose, "I'm the best, I can do you the best—"

"Mingi! Your Tongue! Please."

After his pant, his mischievous little chuckle, you understand it, understand it all clearly: your naughty Mingi loves to be ordered around by his wife. Loves being ordered around knowing that, once his tongue is inside you, you'll do absolutely nothing to hold him back, and it does make you want to fuck him even more, doesn’t it? You love your husband, you feel so young with him, so undisturbedly yourself— and how loved you feel, too.

Humming a fond "I got you, baby", Mingi shuffles himself together one last time, your thighs sitting perfectly on his shoulders, and there he goes, driving his tongue into you, even more ecstatic than before; now, that you even begged him to, it's like your husband has taken enough of a back to duplicate the amount of vigor, exponentially getting faster and more impassioned. "Oh, fuck," you breathe out and with Mingi's tongue rubbing your inner walls wild and avidly, his thumb sprinting across your sensitive clit, you are heading straight to your first orgasm.

"Just like that," you whine, knowing very well that it gets your husband riled up well across his usual efforts, and you continue with it just to chase your high, "just like that, baby, just like—"

Hey now, did you just call him 'baby'? And how sneakily you did it, too! You know how crazy it gets him, you tease. Your husband’s tongue raves against your sweet spots and your slick gets combined with his saliva, his thumb using the moisture as lube to not miss any of the chances to make you squirm and spasm on his touches, but Mingi’s cock, his poor cock, twitches in the short moment his sweet, desirous pet-name is exhaled out of your pretty mouth he’s definitely going to need to kiss a thousand times until he can only taste the word “baby” on his lips.

His own pelvis is grinded deep into the mattress, and pearls of sweat form on both your foreheads, your eyes rolling to where you can’t see Mingi concentrating on your face, when it cums with a movement of your pelvis bucking up.

“… That!”, you moan, and Mingi pants, shovelling your come into his mouth, slurping it up so long until you physically have to wring with him to get his tongue off your pussy, but the trousers at your calves make it impossible. It’s Mingi’s choice here. And he’s not letting go.

“Ba—,” you squirm, rocking your body from side to side, “—by, please! Fuck!”

“Call me ‘baby’ one more time, just for me,” he lisps, laving his tongue against your throbbing, pulsating clit, all the while you try yank your ass down, overwhelmed by your prolonged pleasure.

“Baby! Baby, baby, baby—“, you whimper, and Mingi kisses your inner thigh, when he finally stops, satisfied by your calling. With one last peck on your clit, he lets go off your hands and slips out your chokehold, pulling off your pants by hooking his fingers in and sliding them off your feet. “Aww, look at you,” he beams, grinning, going through his hair and stroking his swollen lip, “all blushed away, reminds me of the older days, baby.”

“You are the worst,” you sob, and lay lax on the bed, legs once in for all extending and relaxing. Strangely enough, your head feels light, and your body that was straining and trying to get Mingi off of it, is now feeling warm and calming down from the high.

“Aw, you think so?” Mingi smiles, kissing up your leg, your hip-bone, pressing his lips on your abdomen, your tummy, your ribs, marking all of your body with his love-soaked mouth. "I adore you so much."

Having wrung with your husband, you got rid of some of the fighting needs, but— as you’re being smothered by him and his sweet antics— you sigh into the gentle, feathery contact with your skin, and play molten with his soft hair.

You remind yourself of his words, ‘don’t care about me’, but your husband would be a fool to assume that his wife doesn’t want to give him anything back. “Mingi,” you murmur— noticing that you’ve been closing your eyes due to the relaxation you are experiencing, and he immediately answers an attentive “yes, baby?” back, as he repeatedly kisses your jaw.

“Do you really want me to order you around?”, you hum.

“Haha, no, baby,” he chuckles, “it's just…”

Mingi harrumphes in his thoughts, wrapping his arms around your waist, laying his head on top of your tummy and looking up to you— whispering, "I want to do what's best for you. Especially on days like these."

Your heart throbs at the sight of your husband's hair being dishevelled, his already plump lips seemingly looking more peachy, rosy, kissable after he's eaten you out with more than greed and thirst; something that’s more valuable to a healthy marriage than the phrase ‘good sex, no ex’— Love. And the sweetest love there could ever be.

"You would do that for me, baby?", you ask him, your voice coming out sighed.

"Yes, of course," he insists, kissing you down your sternum, your ribcage moving up and down in a slow rhythm. “Baby, you work so much for us… I feel like this is something I can do for you in return, you know?”

“But what if I don’t make you cum?”

"Huh?"

Mingi stops kissing you and glances upwards. You grin. You wanted to catch him off-guard a little bit. (Though you don't know whether that's surprise in the white of his eyes or something like... intrigue.)

“… Uh,” he gutters, thinking about his words very carefully, but ultimately failing to find something good to say.

You smirk and go through his hair, gently grabbing a handful of it. “I think you’d find it hot."

"Really?", he asks, nervously huffing.

"Mingi, didn’t I edge you all during our early twenties?”

“Baby, don’t—“

“What? Well, I thought it was hot. I remember it being really hot.”

“Those were trying times.”

“We did try a lot of things during college.”

Reminiscing and visiting your rather youthful, spry days, Mingi pushes his head deeper into your hand and smiles, having calmed down from the rather exciting idea that you would suggest something so risqué to him. How long has it been? More than ten years, wow.

"Look at us now, baby," Mingi murmurs, sub-consciously wandering up the silhouette of your body with the backside of his hands, making you rather ticklish, but in a way that goosebumps find themselves on your skin, your breath feeling lighter with each stroke of his finger-tips, "Look at you." He inhales, and then exhales, your thumb resting at his ear, "You are trying to kill me, baby..."

"Ohh, Mingi, I'm not!", you giggle, and you may not know what your husband is talking about, but through his lenses— though you would be right to assume that these lenses are painted a deep, deep red— he's seeing his wife be tempered, moderate, relaxed. If he finds you so hot when you're fuming, Mingi finds you enthralling, when your eyes are barely open, the slightest of smile decorating your lips, and an even more hidden pink daubed on your cheeks... You're his wife, Mingi repeats to himself, and his heart grows double its size because of it.

"I love you," he murmurs, and for the moment, he doesn't even know he said that out loud, “I love you so much”, and means it more the second time.

And there you lay, on the mattress, your husband beginning to kiss you again, his hands cupping your head, your fingers interlaced in his hair. "I love you too," you whisper, and as Mingi grabs you by your back, inviting you to get your body up, you're right in the zone again.

Soft, smitten contact— it’s your lips this time to cover Mingi’s neck with kisses, down to his shoulders, his collarbones, your knee working against his crotch, arms swung behind his head.

“I want to take care of you, baby,” Mingi whispers, his thumb caressing your jawbone, as you peck away the sweat on his skin, he will need another shower. “I want to make love to you.”

You smile in awe of your husband lulling the loveliest of words into your ear, soft rustling from your sheets accompanying his voice. The room you decorated together, the home you fill, and even sooner, you'll start a family— with Mingi as a father to be proud of. Who has done so much to keep you happy.

"But sometimes I think—��

“No, baby,” you interrupt him, his voice was dropping and you know you are preventing Mingi from talking bad about himself. He feels guilty, though you've told him uncountable times that you don't feel like you're the only one under this roof.

"But—"

“Baby, no.”

"Okay... I guess I just love you, then." Mingi chuckles, when your fingernails trail down his breast, drawing a line along his muscle definition, “what did you think I was gonna say?”

“Something that’s gonna take me off my mood,” you hum, hooking yourself at his joggers. Mingi sighs, loudly, not yet relieved, but still at peace somehow.

“Make love to me, Mingi.”

A slight gasp leaves his mouth. Oh…

“Y/N… You can’t say things like that.”

With a smirk, your hand disappears in his joggers, and then in his boxers; his thick, throbbing, struggling cock slicking in your grip, as you wrap your fingers around it.

“I can, baby, and I will,” you sneer, “I thought you wanted the best for me?”

He grits his teeth, but Mingi smiles, finding himself at your service. “Am I the best?”, he asks you, leaning forwards to rest his head against your shoulder, pushing you down again.

“You’re the absolute best, Mingi.”

You slowly glide your hand up and down his length nibbling at his ear, exhaling, seducing him. “You’re the best husband,” you purr, “with the most handsome face,” kissing his temple, “and”, with your other finger hooked at the waist band of his joggers, you reveal “the best cock.”

Mingi is touched. A bit embarrassed, yes, it’s been a while since he’s heard you talk like this, but to hear from the best wife that he is deemed the best husband is the highest compliment he could have gotten. What, his face still charms you? His cock is still alluring to you? Don’t judge him, but even after ten years he will be moved by your words.

Moved.

“Come on, Mingi,” you coo, feeling your cunt pulsate between your legs, his cock twitch between your fingers; your husband gulps and, with your command, roams against your body, "let's get you to work."

Maybe he's really revisiting things from the past, after all the talk about your college endeavours, because you definitely recognise his canine teeth ever-so slightly sunken into your shoulder, as Mingi grabs you by your thighs and spreads your legs gently. Your body remembers, and his cock surely does as well, glistening in pre-cum as it is positioned at your cunt. "God, baby," Mingi grunts, and you lick over your lips in anticipation.

“You’re so beautiful,” he pouts, and in an almost reverent tone, Mingi brushes away a sweaty strand of hair from your face, “you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

“Not even your mom?”, you giggle, and while you think of your mother in law with utmost respect, your husband smiles, unfazed; “She’ll agree.”

And with that, Mingi is inside you, all of his length gliding into you with utmost caution; he’s driving in his pelvis unhurriedly, slow and deliberate, just so you can feel every inch of you inside expand for his girth, stretch for his entrance. "Fuck," you gutter and grab Mingi by his hair, pulling him close to you just as he begins to move, your moan coming out muffled against his lip.

"Never growing tired of it, are you?", Mingi grins into the kiss, and he's right, he's so, totally right, but your face is strained together in ecstasy, lascivious— aphrodisical to your husband. He's throbbing and he can feel how warm his own cock is, as Mingi pulls himself out of your tightness in his entirety and then, "fuck," pushes himself right back in inside you to experience it all again.

"I could never grow tired of my hubby," you chuckle and fuck, feel him, physically feel how he's getting excited about your words, something so enrapturingly hot boiling inside him; but while your personal heat ends up being your devilish little voice encouraging you to tease him, Mingi's does nothing more than to whisper him the most delicate ways of loving.

If he sucks on the spot right here at your pretty, graceful collarbone, will you sigh out an even more graceful breath? (Yes!) If he slides his tongue across your neck, just until your sensitive jaw, will you pull his hair with some type of feistiness? (Oh, god yes!) If Mingi, looking at you with sunken eyes, catches you off-guard and pistons his pelvis in at this exact moment, will you— "Fuck, baby!"

Oh, he didn't even need a voice for that one. Your husband slithers his arms under your armpits, one hand holding you by your back, the other resting on top of your head, so you don't hit the bedframe and hurt yourself, as it falls to the back with his thrust.

"Want me to say sorry?", he hums, again slowly driving himself out, knowing very well that once Mingi changes the direction, he will hit your sweet-spot again, and you shake your head rather weakly, drunken on the feeling of him filling you out.

"Good," Mingi confirms your answer, peppering kisses all around your forehead, as he quickens up his pace, breathing throughout it all. "Y/N," he sighs, you sighing with him for all the same reasons, "you feel so good."

You get used to the rhythm and let loose of the sheets, lightly scratching his skin at his waist. "You feel so good, baby," Mingi repeats himself and his eyebrows are pushed together, his grunts vibrating down your cunt. "Do you feel good, baby?"

Nodding, whispering a wispy string of a lot of 'yes'es, Mingi flashes his eye-smile and digs his face deep into the nook of your neck. He doesn't say it, because he's too busy panting, moaning, breathing out to his own thrusts, but your husband is overjoyed. You feel so tiny under his body— and maybe it's because you are, and yet the place you have reserved in his even bigger heart— which even in this moment, is beating for you and nobody else— is inexplainably huge. He wants to be yours as much as he wants you to be him, be with him, have all his life painted in your pretty colours until his canvas drivels over.

His cock is slipping in and out of you at fast speed now, your whiny moans encouraging Mingi to hold this angle since you're not stopping with it; "Are you close?", he asks and gets one arm of his out to rest his hand on the bedframe, towering over you, hair falling in front of his eyes.

"Yes, I'm close," you answer and search for another kiss, raising your hand to his cheek, Mingi immediately plunging his face into yours. He's close too, has been for a while now, but he had to get your confirmation that he was finally able to release himself into you— and then, when you nibble at his lip while a heavenly note of a moan leaves your opened mouth, Mingi's pelvis moves by itself.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," he cusses, having to install one hand at your hips so he doesn't rock you around too much, voice becoming high and needy, greed messing with the practiced way he thrusts into you, becoming sloppy and all the while passionate, chasing the speed it takes to make you feel the best and even better. His other hand slides onto your clit, and it does so by muscle memory, knowing exactly where to rub so you clench around him, scream out his name.

"I love you so much, baby, I want you so bad, and I'm— fuck," he heaves, his voice catching up with his movement, "I'm going to love you until we grow old, baby, I want to be with you until the end of our days— I," and Mingi is rambling his free mind here, his whole body, mind and soul at your service, "I want you to have me forever, Y/N."

"Mingi," you whine, and his cock doesn't stop hitting your soft-spot, your clit tingling from his thumb, making you dopey, skipping you through time, to a future where you lay with Mingi in bed at the same late hour, both heads fuming from work, trying to your steam off together now, worried that your kids will hear your words, grunting silently into each other's ears, the words being, "I'm gonna cum!"

Oh, what good days await you two, and how straight you're heading for it, too— with Mingi's breathing being cut short, coming out stuttered from how fast he's ramming himself into you, not too rough, but fluidly and ceaselessly until you are gasping for air, feeling the string be stretched further and further, pulled for release, spiralled by your husband's vigor and his panting; "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum so fucking bad, fuck!"

Mingi soaks sweatily in your words, his hair chaotic, his abs glistening from the heat of it all— you yank your hand out his mouth, your lower body curling up— "Fuck, baby!"

And with your tightened cunt Mingi lets out a deep, whole-hearted grumble, falling flat on your body, as he spasms; his hot, thick semen shot seeps through along the tip of his cock out your cunt, needing to be fucked right back into you so it doesn’t get lost on your sheets— you seeing absolute bliss, as he pistons into you one last time, eyes focused on your husband.

“Baby,” Mingi pants, and with your gazes meeting, his lips rush over to your cheek, pecking you one, two, three times— and then, on your lips one, two— no, holding one long kiss with you, his plump, rosy softness making your body melt into the mattress, as it falls deeper in slumber. “I love you,” he whispers into your kiss, tucking some of your hair behind your ear, “my baby.”

He pulls out, infamously slow, making you heave on his length even after you both finished. “Mingi,” you exhale, feeling your eyelids close by themselves, your husband slightly chuckling.

“Sorry, baby,” he says, caressing your waist and cheek, “you need anything?”

“Oh, Mingi,” you laugh; Mingi can't help himself, can he? Will always ask for your wishes, wishing to grant them, like he's some wizard, a magician, a devoted believer of your enjoyment and happiness— "You did all you could have done, baby."

"Really?"

"Come on, Mingi, you big baby, c'mere."

He huffs, a bit sulky maybe, your silly husband, getting the blanket from the bed to throw it over his shoulder and wham, over you— cuddling you in, for now ignoring that the both of you need a hot, steamy shower, just breathing in and out your presence, your sweet, dulcet presence, which caramelizes in his warmth, against his body, melting.

"Thank you for being there for me, baby," you smile, voice dampened by the blanket, but Mingi understands you just well enough.

You don't need to thank him. Mingi knows you know that. He's obsessed with you, and though you could try and say you're just as obsessed, your husband will try everything to your favour to prove otherwise.

As Mingi throws his arm around your shoulder and pulls you close to his breast, making you listen to his heartbeat, beating just for you, you hear him whisper all kinds of affirmations. 'I'll never leave your side, I'll never make you feel lonely, I'll be yours forever.”

A career? A family? A happy life?

It's all waiting for you, patiently, each day and night you leave and come back home— in office clothes and a chaotic mind— watching, admiring, hoping to get the weight of responsibility off your shoulders, get you a taste of freedom, a taste of the fruits of your labour.

"Are you asleep?", he asks and you groan silently, pressing your face deeper down his armpit. "Baby..."

Mingi chuckles. You need this sleep, totally, but you also need to be cleaned up, which gives him the challenge to grab you by your leg the most gentle way he can, lift you up— and, when you lie in his embrace, head snuggled into his breast— he’s careful to not wake you up with the sounds of water splashing down his hand, as he soaps you in.

It’s difficult, this is difficult, it will all be so difficult— but Mingi, being your husband, your soul-mate, your everything, he’s putting his all on it to make it work.

(Work you up, make you work for it; until your voice is hoarse, until your body shakes, until your head is light and you can do it, all over again, the next day, evening and night.

“Happy wife, happy life!”

(Maybe Mingi embraces his new role as the father of your children too much.))

[s1llydr3amscape]

LET ME OUT

Looks like someone failed the captcha test to many times!

Anyways I always wanted to doodle this specific pose from Toyless' animation why because I can :]

Extras under the cut :

This was the specific screenshot I based the pose off I love hands grabbing head!!! :

The original video ^ (I'll be real with yall I was shocked the original song was poppy playtime because my only experience with it was that all my baby cousins loved that franchise. And they would show me vids off it at family gatherings because I was the babysitter. One of em even debated me abt fnaf like chill out bro you weren't even born when it came out!!!!!)

Glitchtrap rambling time woohoo let's go!!!!

-I redrew em again because I think I'm almost 100% happy with its design!!!! Like I don't wanna change their face so much because the way his face is shaped is my fave!!! Like they have the same style of muzzle as sonic characters!!!!!! I just made it rounder cuz its their early days before this au lore

-I just wanna achieve the unnaturalness with their design. Like they don't belong here. They want to get out. LET HIM OUT. type vibe basically like that's why it has like those kind off teeth instead off the rabbit ones. They get those later in the au.

-I fucking love Glitchtrap so much you don't understand they're so peak!!!!!! I jokingly hate him because I despise what it did to Vanny.

-I was a fan since day 1 bro is just so unique like woah a non animatronic for a change?!?!? STRAIGHT UP A FURSUIT!??!?! Color me impressed!!! I love zooming on it its model and seeing everyy little detail!!! Like omg bro is crying and drooling on the suit!!!!! There's also a patch of uneven stitching pattern on the top of their head compared to their mostly symmetrical design!!!

-I was so fixated on em like my level of obsession for him was bad bad!!!! Like yeah it was still there when Vanny came around during the curse of Dreadbear DLC but you don't understand it surpassed all my Foxy art!!! The first fnaf character I fixated on!?!?? Like what and yall can ask my IRLS bro had lots n lots of art!!!!! I have so much trad art of glitchy it's embarassing!!! Atleast I improved tbh!!

-I just really really loved the fan animations were bro got to time travel to the older fnaf animations and fuck em up!!!! Causing them all to glitch out like hello PEAK!?!?!?! No im not biased to rabbit characters with whiskers shhhhh... SHHH...

-Because I know all those animations already and it's like omg omg OMG Glitchtrap kinda expanded my music taste imma be fr... Fnaf autism is so bad I omfg I only listened to fnaf songs and the only time I listened to other franchises songs is because someone animated fnaf over it... like yeah I was an animation meme kid but even then I only remember the lyrics and titles to songs if I saw fnaf on them (cringe!!!!) So yeah thank u Glitchtrap <33333

-I think Malhare is the cooler name but the Glitchtrap name is cool too because when the names end in trap like this it makes me think they're like warrior cats adjacent. So in this one they just fluctuate between either Malhare or Glitchtrap

-Also another reason he's my super fave is because my brain predicted it's gloop form!!!!

-Like no joke literally the same character I dreamt about during the early days before Princess Quest.

-Except mine was a shadow like the shadow animatronics. More wispy than gloopy. I think the reason I dreamt it was because Shadow Toy Chica and fan made shadow animatronics were getting popular!! But legit same character and colors!!!!!!!

-Just a big dark mass with purple eyes surrounding it like literally the same character my brain came up with and I'm just wow <3333 minus the fact my design had really big giant swirly white eyebrows

-However my Shadow Glitchtrap was kinda more wack to say the least. Like heheheh cuz Glitchtraps a fursuit there's no denying that I changed the dream design a bit. In my old Glitchtrap designs they'd have a zipper and so what would happen was they'd unzip and flip their insides into outsides to reveal the Shadow Glitchtrap thing which was hiding inside them.

-Like those plushies that you can unzip to reveal a different plushie design basically!!!!

-TBH I prefer Glooptrap because yeah!!!!! Amalgamation of hate let's go!!!!!! I think with how gloopy he is its just fun to draw I love the fact that the weird Glitchtrap blockers look like that it fits too much with my own preestablished AU lore.

-I feel like Glitchtrap turns into Glooptrap from like the seams of their suit. Like you see that each part the suit got stitched just turn black as black liquid pours out like ohhh that shit haunted!!!! Bursting outta the seams like oh this guy has no one inside they're all just black sludge!!!!

-In this AU specifically (The one with my millions of Vanny designs) is actually a spoof fnaf AU where everyone lives!!! Like I have 3 AUs technically one of them being the fnaf cast in my oc world where they become my ocs basically called Rabbit City. My other one which is my more serious canon adjacent fnaf AU where no silly stuff or shipping happens, and it's just more overall following my own formed understanding of the canonicity and the series of events with me trying to keep the animatronics more game accurate (I dont think ive posted any of that here due to me feeling like my style limits the nit and grit I wanna go with it). And this one I mainly post on here where everything is just silly and bends to my command and everyone lives because I love everyone <333333 Literally playing with my toys type AU where I do what I want which is why a million vanny designs are in this AU specifically. I usually tag it as this 🦭🩷🐇🐰🐇🐰🐇🐰🐯 because the original name of this au is self indulgent and I'm embarrassed but it's too iconic to change it.

-Glitchtrap in this AU is just much more goofy and silly infecting people like a zombie virus and possessing them for his own gain. Weird eldritch horror that came out of a fnaf fangame. Anything goes in this AU so if I wanna make Glitchtrap a mind controlling zombie warlock wizard so be it!!!! Sorry I love zombies soo much you will have to take this trope out of my cold dead hands!!!!! I love rot!!!

-That's why it's wrinkly because they too me are like a rotten banana (Even though his associated smell to me is lemongrass). Imagine squeezing a banana still with it's skin on. That's how I imagine bro turns into glooptrap if they didn't open the zipper in time. Also because I love the design trope of rotting and withering sue me. I love when the flesh sags across the body. Wrinkles are great bro theyre so real!!!!! Also because back then people kept drawing him as skinny as a twig??? Even though they have fat??? So I made them fatter mostly because like I love the gloop part of it hiding inside <3333

-They're more green pink and purple because imma be real my fave color combo ever <33333

-I wanna do an xray piece with them soon to show their insides but I'm still uncertain if I have the art prowess to concoct it exactly like how I envision it yet. Like I need to squash and scretch them more. They need to look more decrepit and horrible!!!!! something like the unknown from dbd!!!!

-They can't actually emote properly stuck in a permanent smile

-Glithctrap and Vanny’s dynamic is like Lord Hater and Commander Peepers in this one. There's more character adjacent to the dynamic between them concocted in my head but I wanna draw a comic abt it :]

-Like yeah one second they're besties and the next they're at each other's throats ready to strangle eachother. Vanny reluctantly trying to help him at first like how she was first called.

-Oh also in this specific AU Glitchtrap isn't connected to William in the slightest more just it's own thing!!!!

-He's like an AI that wants to be human. It believes it is human. They've mimicked people too much that they don't know what they are anymore. Or what it wants anymore. What do they want.

[naturesapphic]

hi can I request something with Billie with a reader who is like maybe 2 or 3 years older than her and Billie gets teased about it by her friends all the time and they like call her the baby of the relationship and stuff and maybe reader is in on the joke too so Billie snaps and shows reader who’s in charge??

I absolutely love your stories btw plss never stop writing for Billie 🤞🏻

Older

Billie eilish x fem!reader

Warning: playful teasing, mad!billie, smut

Word count: 1,019

“Get the fuck Inside and go up to the bedroom.” Billie snaps at you and you quickly nod as you run up the stairs, your face bright red from embarrassment. You and Billie were at a party with a mix of y’all’s friends together and things took a turn when you decided to do something stupid.

~ flashback ~

Billie and you were at a friends party just chilling with y’all’s friends when they started playfully teasing Billie on y’all’s small age gap. You were three years older than Billie and it never really bothered yall, especially not Billie. Y’all’s friends loved to tease the two of you but it was always light hearted and fun. On this particular night though, she was getting a bit upset at how far they were taking it, clearly drunk off their calls and not realizing what they were doing.

“Billie is clearly the baby in this relationship.” Quen said and you giggled. “Oh yeah she is.” You said smirking but laughing afterwards to show everyone that you were clearly playing around but billie didn’t see it like that of course and she was fuming inside. They kept going on and you would butt in and basically keep calling her the baby and one time someone called her a bottom and you didn’t object.

That’s when she grabbed your arm and pulled you away from everyone, anger flared in her eyes. Before she took you off she said goodbye to everyone and said that they were leaving early since you didn’t feel good. They all wished you well and said bye while Billie dragged you outside by your arm. You knew you were about to get fucked and that’s not taking it lightly.

~ flashback over ~

After going up the stairs you went into the bedroom and started stripping immediately. You got your clothes off and sat on the edge of the bed waiting for her. Billie came through the door a few minutes later and shot you a glare that made you feel small. “So you think you could just embarrass me in front of our friends?” She spat out as she walked over to you and grabbed your face in her hands, making you look up at you. “I-im sorry b-bils. I-it was a-all jokes p-promise!” You pleaded and she made your stop talking by squeezing your face together so your lips are puckered.

“I don’t want to hear any excuses right now. I think you need a reminder of who’s in charge hm?” Billie said lowly as she removes her hand from your face and backs up a little as she starts to unbuckle her belt. Watching her pull down her pants and take off her shirt always got you so hot and bothered. The way her arm flexes and the veins in her hands show, it gets you going. She grabs her belt and grabs your hands, tying them together. “Turn over and lay on your stomach.” She demanded and you quickly obeyed her. Laying on your stomach, your bare ass on display, billie ran her hands up and down the back of your thighs, causing your whole body to have chills.

She smirks and glides her hands up to your plump flesh and starts massaging it. You bit your lip and looked over her shoulder to see her and she slaps your ass harshly, making you yelp out. “Turn your head back.” She said lowly and you quickly buried your face in the mattress. Billie massaged them a bit more until she lands a forceful slap that left a red mark on your ass. “I want you to start counting.” She demanded and each slap you counted. In total there was about fifteen, which was letting you off easily. You whimpered out as she started kneading your red flesh making her smile. “You put this on yourself doll. Shouldn’t have made me look stupid.” She said with a fake softness in her voice.

Her hands went down your ass and spread your legs open, revealing to her your dripping cunt. She smirked to yourself and started rubbing your clit making your body jolt. Billie entered her index finger in your pussy and started pumping in and out fast causing you to let out a whimper. She then added two more fingers which made you gasp loudly. “F-fuck billie!” You yell out as she pumps her three fingers into your pussy at a fast pace. “Who’s in charge baby?” She asked you with gritted teeth as she used her other hand to pull on your hair, making your head lift a little so you could properly speak.

“Y-you b-Billie you are!” You exclaim as she keeps fucking you. “Good girl.” She says letting go of your hair and your head falls back onto the mattress as she fucks you into oblivion with her fingers. Soon enough she felt your walls squeezing her fingers and the way you were moaning into the mattress that you would be cumming soon and she was right. You came all over her hand and fingers, your cum leaking out of your pussy as she slowly pulls out. She pulls her fingers to her lips and sucks them dry. Billie then leans down and spreads your ass, slurping your juices from behind. You let out a strangled gasp and you feel her tongue lap at your pussy. She cleaned you up and pulled her face away, licking her lips. She flipped you back over on your back and smiled down at you. “Know who’s in charge now?” She said teasingly and you nodded your head fast. You definitely learned your lesson.

A/n: thank you so much anon for your kind words and the request! I hope you enjoyed it and that everyone else did too. Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! Take care of yourselves! I love y’all :)

[ellieslittleburrow]

Siblings : sleepover

Summary : You live near campus, away from Dean and Sam. You haven't seen them in a while. How do you react when you find them right at your door?

Pairings : Dean and Sam winchester x sister

Warnings : nooone, just fluff.

A/N : Hi, babies ❣❣ I hope this is as refreshing to you as it was for me.

------

Oil sizzled as you set the stove on the lowest heat. You tossed the chopped up onions into the pan, filling the room with the familiar aroma.

The house phone rang. And you moved the pan aside before heading for the phone. You pressed a button, setting the phone near your ear when a familiar hum sounded.

Oh my god!

"Dean!" You excitedly shouted, earning yourself an "ouch" over the other line. You pressed a another button, opening the complex door for him and since you were only in the third floor, it only took him a quick minute to appear, followed by Sam.

"Hii" You opened your arms, running to embrace both of them. "What a surprise."

"Hey, kiddo." Dean tightly wrapped his arms around you, letting you go when Sam spoke.

"Hey, honey." Sam pulled you into a hug.

"I missed you both so much." Your voice vibrated into Sam's chest. "What are you doing here?"

"Eating, apparently." As Dean's voice went distant, you pulled away from Sam, spinning around to find Dean marching towards the kitchen.

You let out a little chuckle, following behind.

-----

After setting the plates and beers on the table, you plumped down on the couch, waiting for your brothers to join. And as all three of you started eating, an hour and a half of talks about life, uni, cases and john flowed seamlessly.

"So..." Dean coughed. "Anybody in your life....kid?"

You rolled your eyes at Dean's sudden change of voice. You knew this one, a low tone, manipulative and curious. You're not falling for it.

"Nobody, Dean." You smiled at him, not caring that he already knew you were lying.

"Are you sure about that? Because i'm pretty sure you don't wear size 12 flip floppers." He eyed the entry door and you snorted a laugh. Fucking hell..This guy's eyes..

"Leave her alone, Dean." Sam rolled his eyes before turning to you. "As long as you're happy, honey."

You smiled at his response....your eyes darting around the room when silence set in...

"Alright....Time to head out, Dean." Sam slapped his thighs, readying himself to get up when you pushed him back down.

"No!"

"We have to go, honey. We still have 5 hours to go before we get there." Sam argues and you shook your head.

"Please don't....it's only been an hour." You pleaded, looking over at Dean, who, to your surprise, was staring at you with pleading eyes.

He did not want to go either.

"Come on, Sammy. It's-" you spun around to get a look at the clock. "It's 6pm, don't you wanna get some sleep and head back for the road tomorrow morning?."

Sam grimaced. "I don't know if that's such a good idea, honey. I really do want to stay, but we could always stay over on our way ba-."

You turned to Dean, leaving Sam hanging. But Dean was already laid back, quiet, waiting for you to do all the dirty work. That's when Sam spoke again.

"Okay, how about this" He started, and your eyes grew wide, anticipating what's about to happen.

Sam straightened his back as he held his arms out, positioning one hand on top of the other, his right fist resting on top of his left palm. And as Dean understood the assignment, he got up, mirroring sam.

And in silence you watched, as for the very first time, Sam laid a rock, losing the fight as early as the first round.

You burst into laughter as Sam's eyebrows arose. Nobody expected that. And as you lifted your arms up, jumping in pure ecstasy, Dean grinned triumphantly.

"I won."

You nodded. "And you spend the night here."

Sam smacked his hands together. "Alright, then. Let's prep for a night in."

----

And we're done! If yall can spare a minute and tell me about my writiing pleaase? if i should change it up, if it's too repetitive and stuff. No pressure and thanks in advance ❣ 🖤🖤🥀🥀

[bingwriterxo]

a clingy drunk

pairing: amber freeman x reader

summary: in which you get a little too drunk at one of amber's parties

warnings: implications of sex, mentions of alcohol poisoning

word count: 1900+

author's note: this was a request (find here!) hope yall enjoy :D

“So, is tonight just the group or is it the whole school?” you asked, your eyes trained on your own reflection as you tried to do your hair in the style that always drove Amber wild. You glanced behind you in the mirror, catching sight of your girlfriend as she looked through her closet for something to wear.

“The whole school,” Amber answered, pulling a cropped shirt from its hanger and holding it up for you to see. “Thoughts?”

You gulped, nodding quickly. “Definitely. Wear it with those low-waisted jeans you got the other day.”

She hummed as she crossed the room, shirt in hand, and leaned down, her chin resting on your shoulder. Her eyes locked with yours in the mirror, and she asked, “Making yourself all pretty for me?”

You shivered at her words, her warm breath fanning against your cheek. “Yeah, Ambs,” you agreed, turning your head to peck her on the cheek. “All pretty for you.”

Amber grinned, leaning in to kiss you. “My pretty girl,” she mumbled against your lips, and butterflies circled your stomach, making you beam with joy. She stood and left your side, going to dig through her dresser for the pants that you had mentioned earlier. 

You carried on with styling your hair, humming along to the quiet music that was playing in the room. You loved when things were like this--both of you existing in the same space yet doing your own things; it was pure domesticity.

Amber’s voice cut through your concentration, drawing your eyes back to her through the mirror. “Baby?” she began, her voice soft and lulling. You swore up and down that you could fall asleep to it. 

“Yeah?” 

“Try not to drink too much tonight, alright? I don’t want to have to call the ambulance again.”

You shuddered at the memory of what had happened at Amber’s last party nearly a month prior. Chad and Mindy had egged you into trying your first keg stand, and, upon successfully completing it, they decided to celebrate by feeding you shot after shot of tequila. Needless to say, the night had ended with you being rolled out on a stretcher, Amber following behind with wide, worried eyes, and having your stomach pumped. 

“I definitely won’t be drinking that much tonight,” you promised. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

She smiled, and your heart fluttered at the sight. “Good.” She pulled the jeans from her drawer, a mischievous smirk on her lips and a familiar spark in her eyes. “Wanna help me get changed?”

You leapt from your seat and rushed toward her, giggling the whole time. 

* * *

For a good hour, you kept your promise to Amber. While people were still filing into her house, you simply wandered around, offering half-assed greetings to your peers and sipping at your beer; every so often, you’d pester your girlfriend for her phone so that you could change the song, or you’d just walk right up to her and plant a kiss on her lips--she never complained about either. 

However, when your friends arrived, your night was quickly turned around.

“Y/N! My favorite girl!” Chad cheered as he walked through the front door, a six-pack of beer dangling from his fingertips. He pulled you into a tight hug, ignoring as you deftly swiped a drink from the case. “How you doing tonight? You ready to get fucked up?!”

“Not too fucked up, Chad,” Mindy interjected as she sidled up beside him, grinning at you. “Can’t have you in the hospital again, can we? Took me days to get that smoothie out of my hair.”

Unfortunately for the twins, at school the day after your little…incident, Amber had taken it upon herself to avenge you, resulting in both Meeks-Martin kids going home early with smoothie dripping from the tops of their heads.

“Definitely ready to get mildly fucked up,” you said, laughing.

Chad frowned. “We can do better than mildly.”

You looked around, making sure Amber wasn’t within earshot, and said, “As long as Ambs isn’t watching, then I’m all in.”

It didn’t take much time for the twins to get you more than mildly drunk. Within half an hour, you were slurring your words and swaying where you stood, your cheeks flushed a bright red and your eyelids drooping. 

“Oh, we’re fucked,” Mindy stated when she realized just how intoxicated you were, her eyes flitting from person to person to see if your girlfriend was anywhere in sight. 

Chad shook his head, taking a sip from his beer. “We’re only fucked if Amber notices,” he said.

“Amber!” you gasped suddenly, your eyes going wide at the mention of your girlfriend. You whipped your head around, stumbling backward and into Mindy’s arms at the force, searching for the raven-haired girl. “Where is she?”

“Uh, I’m not too sure,” Mindy said, glancing at her brother. “Do you need her?”

You twisted around and nodded furiously at Mindy, your face taking on the most serious expression she had ever seen. “Yes. Need her now.”

Chad furrowed his eyebrows, placing his drink down on the nearest surface he could reach. He put his hands on your shoulders, forcing you to face him. “And why do you need Amber?” he asked.

You sighed dreamily, pulse speeding up at the thought of the girl. “‘Cause I love her,” you slurred. “Love her so much. Just want to squeeze her little cheeks.” You mimicked the action with your hands, scrunching your face up as you did. 

Mindy chuckled. “As if Amber would let you squeeze her cheeks.”

“Oh, she does,” you said, your voice convincing. “All the time. She likes it.”

“Are we talking about the same Amber?”

“Why would I want to squeeze a different Amber’s cheeks?” you asked, dead serious, and Chad barked out a laugh. You looked at him, confusion painted on your face. “I only love my Amber. I promise.”

“Oh, I know, champ.” He patted you on the top of your head. “Everyone knows. But, right now, you can’t have Amber because--”

“Because what?” Amber asked, and you squealed at the sight of her standing behind Mindy. You pushed yourself out of Chad’s grip and hurried toward her, immediately wrapping your arms around her waist and burying your face into her neck. She was left a little disoriented but no less loving as she quickly hugged you back.

“Baby!” you exclaimed, and she flinched back at your voice so loud in her ear.

“Hi, pretty girl,” she cooed quietly, running her fingers through your hair before settling her sight on the twins. “Why is she so…excited?”

“She’s a little drunk,” Mindy said. 

Amber’s eyes narrowed. “How much is ‘a little,’ Mindy?”

“Four beers and three shots,” Chad offered, cringing when Amber’s jaw clenched. 

“I thought I told you guys not to let her drink that much tonight!” Amber chided, her hold on you tightening. You nuzzled further into her. “You remember what happened last time, don’t you?” There was a threat in her voice as she spoke, her tone sharp and demanding, and both twins squirmed beneath her glare.

“She’s fine, Freeman. She’s just…really set on being with you right now, that’s all,” Mindy told the other girl. 

Chad nodded. “Yeah. She’s at about that point in the night where if you leave her alone, she might cry.”

Amber sighed and glanced down at you. “Guess I just won’t leave her alone, then.” She looked back at the twins. “At least, not with you two. Don’t you dare give her another drink tonight. Or else.”

Both twins raised their arms in surrender, taking a few steps back as Amber nodded, satisfied with their reaction. 

“Come on, baby,” Amber said to you. “Let’s go find Tara because I need to get more drinks from the basement.”

Almost immediately, you hugged her tighter, shaking your head. “No,” you whined, and Amber couldn’t help but think it was cute how determined you were to stay with her. She grinned as you emphasized the thought. “Only wanna be with you.”

You looked up, smiling at your girlfriend. You kissed her before raising an arm to squeeze her cheek. She blushed at the action, shooting a deathly glare toward her friends as you cooed like she was a puppy. 

“You’re the cutest person ever,” you said. “I just wanna be with you forever and ever and ever.”

She blushed even harder. “I love you, too, baby,” she said in response, because she’d have rather died than say something so cheesy where Mindy could hear her. “Now, can we please go find Tara so she can watch you while I run to the basement?”

Your face soured. “Depends. How long will you be?”

“Not even a minute.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, stuck in deep thought, and finally decided, “Okay. Fine. But can we cuddle after?”

Mindy tilted her head behind you, mouthing ‘Yeah, Amber. Can we cuddle?’ with a sly smirk. Amber had never been so tempted to tackle her to the ground. 

Through gritted teeth, she said, “Of course,” even though, in reality, she would have loved nothing more, but, again, she couldn’t let Mindy know that. 

“Yay!” you cheered, unraveling yourself from Amber. You intertwined your fingers with hers and let her pull you through the crowds in search for her brunette best friend, her thumb rubbing along the skin of your hand comfortingly as she did. 

It took a few minutes before you finally found Tara. She was sitting on the couch, a drink in her hand as she talked to Wes. Her head tilted when her eyes landed on you and Amber, lips quirking into a smile at your clearly drunk state.

“Did Chad and Mindy get to her?” she asked Amber, who nodded with a huff.

“Unfortunately,” Amber drawled. “Could you keep an eye on her? We’re out of beer. I need to grab more from the fridge downstairs.”

You frowned, like you had forgotten all about the fact that Amber needed to get more drinks. “Can’t I come with you?” you asked hopefully.

“I don’t think you could make it down the stairs like this, baby. Just stay here with Tara and Wes, okay?” She kissed you quickly before pulling away. When your frown deepened, she added "I'll be two seconds."

“Okay,” you grumbled, throwing yourself onto the couch between your friends and watching as your girlfriend disappeared in the direction of the basement.

“So, having a good night so far, Y/N?” Tara asked. 

You sighed, crossing your arms. “Guess so.”

“You don’t sound too happy,” Wes pointed out.

“I miss Amber,” you huffed. 

Tara chuckled. “She’ll be back soon. You’re a clingy drunk, huh?”

“No,” you denied, even though it was obviously the truth. “Just like being around Ambs. She’s so pretty, and cute, and she always makes me laugh, and she’s a really good kis--”

Amber appeared in front of you, a grin on her face, and you cut yourself off, hopping off the couch and right back into her arms. 

“You’re back!” you exclaimed.

She laughed. “I told you I wouldn’t be long.”

You pressed a kiss to the side of her jaw. “Can we go upstairs and cuddle?” you murmured, and Amber nearly melted. 

“Sure, baby. C’mon.” She started to walk away, you close behind, before she stopped and looked back at Tara. “Just…kick people out when it gets late, okay? I probably won’t be back down.”

Tara grinned at her. “Have fun, kids.”

Amber rolled her eyes and started leading you toward the stairs, trying to calm the fluttering of her heart as you chanted, “Cuddles! Cuddles! Cuddles!”

[damascus-crowned-king]

Foolish love, but damn if it isn't true

Fool!Guy and Fool!Honey

It's really fucking bad yall

They were bored.

They were the only one awake at 6:30 AM, and they hated it. Years of waking up early out of fear that they would be late for some sort of event or that if they didn't wake up early enough, they wouldn't be as productive was biting them in the ass.

So they decided to bother their adorable, grumpy, currently asleep boyfriend.

"Guy."

"Baby."

"Darling."

"Sugar."

"Flour. Egg. Butter. Vanilla extract. Baking soda. "Salt. If you don't answer me, the pet names are just gonna get weirder, Guy."

"Nothing? Alright."

...

Radio silence.

"My oatmeal cream pie. My tomato soup."

"My honey-"

It only took a second for Guy to grab the back of their head and shove their face into a pillow and lay on top of them. Rendering them immobile.

"Oomph!"

"First of all. I call you honey, not the other way around. Second of all, It's too early and you should go back to bed. Third of all, why were almost all of those "pet names" food related?"

"I'm bored... and I can't go back to sleep, and also, I'm hungry, and who said that you trademarked the nickname 'honey'?!"

He replied dryly. "I did."

They squirmed for a minute before giving up under him. "Can you get off of me now?"

He questioned them slightly, still mildly crushing them under his weight. "Are you gonna chill out?"

"Maybe..."

"..."

"....Okay I'll calm down... lame-ass..."

"Did you say something?"

"Nothing, sweetheart~"

"That's what I thought." He got off top of them and laid on his side while Honey wrapped their arms around him so he could nuzzle his face in their chest.

They eventually started scratching his scalp, and they made a small smile at him leaning into their touch. "Your roots are kinda showing. Do you want me to touch 'em up for you?"

Guy scrunched his face in confusion and slight judgment at their behavior, still mumbling into their neck. "Honey. Did you just sniff my hair?"

Guy buried his face in the crook of their neck and wrapped his arms around them even tighter, mumbling a tired response. "Yeah... Tomorrow."

Honey slightly shivers at Guy's warm breath on their neck, smirking at his clinginess. "Okay." Letting out a soft confirmation before burying their face in his hair, taking a deep whiff of his natural scent mixed with his coconut and mango shampoo.

Honey smirked at Guy's convicting tone. "What? You smell good."

Guy scoffed at honey, finding their fascination for his smell odd. "You're such a weirdo..."

"What? You want me to say you smell bad? 'Cus I could."

"I mean, you could, but then you'd just look like a liar..."

"Do you want me to appreciate your smell or say you smell gross?"

"You could just... not smell me. That's an option." He says, throwing out the proposition, knowing full well it won't be taken into consideration.

Honey, fake-considers his suggestion, very obviously not actually thinking about not smelling him. "Mmmmm nah I'll pass."

Guy rolls his eyes and holds Honey tighter, wrapping his legs around them like a koala. Squeezing them tightly while they play with his hair.

This was the life to Guy. Silence and cuddles, Honey's fingers tangling into his hair and Guy secretly taking in their scent. (Hypocrite) Who wouldn't love this serene, still moment...

"Has anyone told you you're absolutely perfect?"

Guy was stunned to say the least. For Honey to say something so out of the blue and something so sappy had his heart skipping a beat.

"Um... no? What's up with you?" Guy was confused. Confused but not that surprised. His Honey was always one to speak their mind, but sometimes they said things that had him flustered. And he wasn't exactly the best at preparing for their unaware sweet words.

"Just sayin'. You're adorable, you're sweet, you smell amazing all the time, and you feed me. That seems like perfect boy behavior to me."

Whoooo boy. Yep. This is how he dies. Four years of being together, and he still turned into a bashful mess whenever Honey was all mushy with him... which was most of the time.

"God you are so..."

"Sooo...? What?"

Guy lets out a soft, resigned sigh and leans into them. "Charming."

Honey snorts at Guy somewhat dropping the tough-guy act and admitting he finds them charming, their ego rising at his simple word of affirmation.

"And that's all the sappy shit you're getting out of me today. No more."

"Ahhh I knew it... you're no fun..."

"Not my problem."

"But you know what is your problem?"

Guy groaned, clearly not excited for whatever was about to come out of his Honey's mouth. "What?"

Honey spoke up with a smirk in their voice. "Breakfast~"

"Ughhhh...."

"Soooo. What should we have for breakfast? We could have waffles, hashbrowns, Omelettes, grits? Ooh! We could have French toast and sausage?"

Guy rolled his eyes as they rambled about various breakfast foods, but deep down he knew he'd make a four course breakfast meal for his Honey. Because they deserved it. They deserved the world after dealing with his sass and sarcasm and monotone, lackluster personality, and his absence of... everything for years and even deciding to date him after putting up with all of it.

So he'll gladly make them breakfast.

And gladly give them the whole world if they asked.

Anything for his Honey.

[vivwritesfics]

Max with a brat

18+ ONLY

If yall wanna send me thotty thoughts, go for it

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, fingering, smut, reader is referred to as a brat, Spanking, masturbation, edging

Okay so I'm picturing Max with Horners daughter

She's younger than him, but not by a lot

Horner wanted to keep her safe from drivers (knowing what they're like), but she just couldn't stay away

When she met max? It was game over

Their relationship was purely sexual

Max didn't have time for much else with his career

But he still needed to relieve the stress

So, they fucked

The thing about Max was he fucked hard

Like, you can't walk the next day sort of thing

The other thing about Max was he loved a brat

If she wasn't bratty when they met, she certainly became it

And max loved it

He was dominant, in control, in charge of when and whether she finished at all

Max loved it when she dressed up in pretty things and he could grip her hair while he fucked over a desk or a chair

She was loud, Max wearing a grin as he listened to her

It was music to his ears

Since their relationship was purely sexual, Max was purely dominant with her

There were times he was soft, sweet Max, in the early hours of the mornings when he made her breakfast

But, other than that, Max was dominant

And Y/N couldn't say no to him

There were several things she wasn't allowed to do

Like touch herself, unless Max said she could

This time, Max had been very clear that she couldn't while he was away at a race

But she was needy and she couldn't help it, couldn't stop herself from reaching down and touching her sopping wet cunt

Max, she needed max

And max wasn't here

It was almost like he could tell

When he got her to his Monaco apartment, he knew

All he needed to do was ask, and Y/N was nodding her head

Max shook his head from side to side

"That's really naughty of you, baby," he said as he stalked towards her

Y/N shook with excitement and trepidation

He was going to punish her and she was going to love every minute of it

"Strip," he commanded and sat himself on the bed

Y/N stood

She stripped off her clothes and laid herself on top of Max's lap, ass in the air

"Good, baby. But not good enough to get you out of trouble. Now, count"

His large hand hit the skin of her ass and Y/N cried out

God, he really knew how to get to her, how to get her cunt dripping more than it already was

"Count, schat"

She counted, counting along every time his hand hit her ass

God the feeling burned

It was amazing

Fucking amazing

After twenty hard swats to her ass, Max sat her up

Her ass stung as he sat her on his lap, but the feeling make her shiver

She loved it

Max ran his hands over her tits, never properly touching

One hand settled around her midsection as the other slid over her stomach, cupping her core

"You're soaked," he whispered against her ear, voice cocky

Nobody but Max could make her feel like this

He touched her Clit briefly, fingers running along along her folds before he dipped inside

It was like torture

Max fucked her on his fingers, thrusting them in and out

Her moans, coupled with the sounds of her wetness, filled the room as Max forced her to ride his fingers

His thick, long fingers

He brought her to the edge time and time again before pulling away

It was like he knew when she was going to finish and pulled away just seconds before

Every time he brought her there, Y/N cried out, but Max pulled away

He did it again and again, going untim Y/N was crying

And then he picked her up and dropped her on the bed

He stood and Y/N let out a cry

Max laughed

"Only good girls get to cum, baby. And good girls do what they're told."

He left her on that bed, desperate for more